


Spirited: the Rewrite

by OceanSpiral



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, OC, Pokemon Journey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2020-01-11 20:19:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18431375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OceanSpiral/pseuds/OceanSpiral
Summary: Pokemon training was never her choice but when Sienna finds her mum gone, claiming to be pursuing her estranged father, she discovers the path of a trainer is now inevitable. Partnered up with a feisty Mareep and some new friends, Sienna aims to find her mother and confront her father - even if she has to travel halfway across the world to do it. Along the way, she unwittingly uncovers a sinister plot bigger than anything she thought possible. Rewrite of Spirited, after ten years of publication.





	1. Prologue

**Prologue**

 

The sky above me was the colour of static as I stood, knee-deep in silence, in front of the three Pokeballs my father had laid out before me. The tiny capsules eclipsed me, entrapped me, the weight of what was about to happen boring into my shoulders. My breath caught in my chest as I took in the shape of my father. He towered above me like a mountain. He was waiting for my answer.

But I didn’t have one to give him.

The curtains twitched at the kitchen window. I felt betrayed – how could Mum stay inside and just allow this happen? She knew how I felt about this, even if Dad didn’t. I looked down at my feet, and noticed, for the first time, a hole forming in the toe of my shoe. I scuffed it into the grass.

“Well?”

The question hung like lead in the air. A minute dragged itself past while I tried out words and phrases in my head, disliking how all of them sounded selfish and pathetic. Then, a sickening crack from somewhere within the dojo made both of us look up. A cacophony of swearing; sharp, ugly words I often pretended I didn’t know.  One of Dad’s managers came sprinting out, my mood soaring in the hope of a distraction. They exchanged a quick word.

“Sienna, we need to hurry this up.” Dad said as soon as the manager was out of earshot.

“…but I don’t know…”

My father is a proud man. Strict and disciplined. Excellent qualities for a dojo master, not as good for a father. I didn’t know what answer to give him. He placed a hand on my shoulder and the force made my knees wobble.

“I’ll run through them again.” He waved vaguely at the first Pokeball in the line. “Mankey. Agile and powerful, but a little frail on the defence. This one was bred from my prized Primeape.”

 There was a sense of inescapable pride in his voice. I knew I was meant to be impressed but instead I just felt sick. His hand moved to the second ball.  “This one is a Makuhita. A bit slow, but a hard-hitter and gutsy to boot. Picked it up in Hoenn. Paid a pretty penny for one this good.” Finally he gestured to the third ball. “This is a Pancham. All the way from Kalos. Mischievous, this is. Will require a good strong hand to train. Don’t turn your back on it.” He added, with a wink that sends my heart hurtling into my stomach.

I’m supposed to choose one. I was afraid of this happening ever since my tenth birthday. Some part of me is amazed that he waited all the way until the first day of the summer holidays to hit me with this.

Dad looked impatiently back to me, towards the dojo, and back to me again. The names of the Pokemon ran through my head.  Mankey. Makuhita. Pancham. Mankey. Makuhita. Pancham. Over and over again until none of the words made sense. I thought to myself maybe it would be easier just to take one. To keep the peace, to stop things from escalating further. I wouldn’t even have to train it. Surely that was better than this?

But then I thought again about the reality of Pokemon like that. Dad had raised these types of Pokemon for as long as I could remember. I knew exactly what they were really like. Big, brawny, surly types that shriek and brawl with each other at the drop of a hat. I had seen the way trainers, younger than me, had struggled to keep a raging Machop under control. I had seen how Dad’s Pokemon – powerhouses, he called them – had ripped through rivals like they were nothing. They frightened me.

I thought of the Pokemon trainer license – filled out and filed without my knowledge – and slipped inside my “Happy 10th Birthday!” card on the morning I turned ten. I should have known this day was coming. I should have protested when I had the chance.

I needed to protest now.

“I don’t want any of these…”

“Eh? Speak up, girl.”

“I don’t want any of these.”

For a moment, Dad was silent. I held my breath. Then, suddenly, he boomed with laughter. “Oh, Sienna! That’s my girl!” Another slap on the shoulders nearly sent me stumbling to the ground. “You don’t want a Fighting type? Oh, I hoped this would happen! I told your mother this would happen and she didn’t believe me! You want something more exotic, right? Rhyhorn? Aron? I don’t know if it’d be possible right now, but I could even see if I could get you your very own Larvitar! How many other kids your age could say they have a Larvitar of their very own? Well, of course, not every kid has Kanto’s best dojo master on their side!”

I had to cut him off before it got worse. “No… I mean, no thank you…but”

“Okay, okay, tricky customer then. A Steel type! Maybe we wouldn’t get hold of a Scizor or a Steelix just yet… but what about a Magnemite? Ferroseed? I’m pretty sure I know a breeder in Striaton City…”

“No, Dad…” I finally lifted my head to meet his eyes. “I’m… I’m sorry, but… I don’t want any of these Pokemon. _Any_ of them.”

Dad looked at me if I had spontaneously grown an extra head. “Why the hell not? Don’t you realise what you’re being offered here? Why would you not take up this offer? _Every_ kid in Pallet is going to be starting with a boring Fire, Water or Grass type.”

“You’re… you’re not listening to me!” I burst out. The words tumbled out as if they had a life of their own. “I… I don’t want to _be_ a Pokemon trainer.”

Dad released a sharp huff of breath. “You don’t want to be a Pokemon trainer? Are you _kidding_ me?”

“No…” I whispered, feeling my body shrivel like a flower deprived of sunlight. “I don’t. I want to learn to be a chef…”

It was the wrong thing to say. I had hoped saying the words would finally give me the sense of relief and freedom. Instead, I watched Dad stand, stock-still, taking deep breaths, like he was trying to inflate a balloon. It reminded me of a Meowth making itself look bigger to intimidate other Pokemon. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes and I squeezed them shut, willing the tears not to fall. Dad hated crying.

When I looked back up, he was storming his way into the house. The back door slammed and rattled, like the whole house was going to cave in. Above all the commotion, I heard his final parting gift.

“Suzanne! That _daughter of yours_ wants a good talking to!”

Left alone in his shadow, and his rejection, I tore open my heart and let the tears fall free.

 

 

 


	2. Make a Wish

**Make a Wish**

When I was younger, I thought the idea of making a wish on your birthday was pathetic. What was the point in making wishes? They didn’t come true anyway, why would the universe magically align itself in your favour just because it happened to be the day of your birth? 

And yet, the day before my fifteenth birthday, I wondered if it was too late to start subscribing to the idea.

It all started with the cake. Mum baked for the first time in years. Up until now, when it was a birthday or a special occasion, we had made do with whatever was cheapest from the bakery section (bonus points if it had a yellow “reduced price” label on it). It wasn’t that her cooking was terrible - it was, but that wasn’t the point – it was that the ingredients took too much out of the weekly budget. Fresh cream, strawberries, a large packet of eggs. Luxuries by our standards. She must have followed the exact recipe I had taken home from my bakery class last month. Only difference was, I had planned to try it only when we had a bit more disposable income.

I wanted to confront her about it, but she was home from work so late all she could do was collapse in a heap on the couch. Her Growlithe curled around her legs, whining softly, as she massaged her feet.

“Everything go alright today?”

“Yeah,” she smiled. She could always manage a smile, even when the situation didn’t call for it. “A few regulars. Mrs Fairchild-Lynsey came by again.”

“Her with the eight Furfrou and the two husbands?”

“The very same.”

“She didn’t make you do all _eight_ Furfrou, did she?”

“Thank goodness, no. It was just Saint Christopher today.”

I spluttered with laughter. “What kind of a woman calls her Pokemon _Saint Christopher_? What are the others called?”

“Kensington, Carmichael, Timothy, Poinsettia, Persephone, Juliette… and Dave.”

If I hadn’t anchored myself in to my chair, I’m sure I would have fallen out of it. “Dave?!”

“Apparently her son named it when he was little and the name just stuck.” Mum shrugged her shoulders and stretched her legs out. Growlithe got excited and clambered up onto the couch, plonking himself directly on her lap. He easily dwarfed her but Mum just laughed, ruffling the wild mane of fur around his neck. “I may love dog Pokemon, Sienna, but I don’t think I could ever manage to see the appeal of a Furfrou. Constant maintenance and picky eaters. Four times daily brushing. You know those posh coats they can have? Outgrown in a week! No wonder only rich people get them. They’re the only ones who have the time to deal with them!”

I let Mum rant on, pulling my knees up under my chin. I stared at her in the glimmer of the lamplight. She had always looked young for her age, but now, I could see the grooves in her face and the puffiness under her eyes. She was always tired now.

I hugged my knees. Working as a groomer and walker for the Pokemon Centre was always going to be a tiring job, even for Mum, who had been quite an accomplished trainer in her heyday. People always said you couldn’t make a reliable wage out of Pokemon training, but anything would be better than the pitiful pay she got now. At least she never complained. And I supposed I had to be grateful too. Pallet Town was lucky to have its own Pokemon Centre now and a small town could never boast a huge number of clients. I just hated to see her working herself so hard.

I glanced out the window towards the dim outline of the dojo. “You know…” I tried to keep my tone conversational, as if I hadn’t been building up to this for a lot longer. “You should really sell it. The dojo, I mean.”

“Oh, Sienna.” Mum groaned, stretching her legs out with an orchestra of clicks and a wince of pain. “God, what I wouldn’t give to raise Chansey instead of dogs. Sorry, Growlithe.” She added when Growlithe whined at her incredulously. She paused for a moment, sighing. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Why? It’s sitting there doing nothing and we’re still paying the rent on the land. Besides,” I added darkly. “It’s not like he’s coming back...”

“Sienna.” Mum’s voice had an edge to it. “I’m not talking about this.”

“Well, why not?” I dared to push her.

“That building took pretty much all of our life-savings. One of these days I’m going to turn it into something for me.”

“Like a groomer’s?” I wrinkled my nose. “With Mrs Fairchild-Lynsey and her Furfrou bothering you for the rest of your life?”

“If I wanted,” she said, noncommittally. “Now, come on. I know you’ve seen that cake in the fridge. Go and cut it.”

“But it’s not my birthday for another…” I checked my watch. “Three hours, twenty-nine minutes and… thirty-three seconds.”

“Who’s counting? Girl, live a little. It’s fresh cream and strawberries. It’s your favourite.” She said in a sing-song voice.

I couldn’t help but laugh as I slowly eased myself out of the chair. “Alright, if you’re really sure it’s okay.”

“Bring the whole cake through, I’ve got candles!” she called after me.

The cake really was impressive. So big that Mum had to take one of the shelves out of the fridge for it to fit. She must have spent hours on it, I thought with a skelf of guilt. Especially for it to turn out looking decent. She wasn’t naturally skilled, but she did try hard. All the more reason I was grateful she let me do the majority of the cooking now.

The cake sustained only minor injuries to the cream as I wriggled it out. I licked splodges of it from my fingers, taking a moment to appreciate the sweet hint of vanilla. When I came back into the living room, she had produced three party hats, one sitting on her head, one, somehow, crammed onto Growlithe’s head and one sitting in my empty chair. Placing the cake on the table and snapping the party hat onto my head, I couldn’t keep the grin off my face. I felt it grow even bigger as Mum meticulously pressed fifteen candles into the cream.

“This all looks great, Mum.” I smiled. “Hey, where’s the lighter?”

“Don’t need one. Growlithe, do the honours.”

My brain caught up too slowly. “Wait, no!”

With a ready bark, Growlithe let out a soft burst of flame. The heat surged across my face making me squeal and cover my eyes. When I finally dared lower my hands, all fifteen candles were lit, blinking merrily in the darkness. I pretended that I didn’t see the slightly charred edge closest to Mum. We could probably feed that bit to Growlithe.

“Make a wish!” she encouraged.

I groaned and rolled my eyes. “I’m not a kid, Mum,”

“You’ll always be my little girl, Sienna.”

For half a second, I thought I detected a catch in her voice. However, when I glanced at her face, she was smiling warmly. Feeling unsettled, I leaned in and blew out as much air as I could.

As the candles snuffed out, Mum immediately scooted towards me. “So… what’d you wish for?”

I didn’t dare speak it out loud, feeling both strangely embarrassed and fiercely protective of it. “Well, I can’t tell you.” I said, shrugging aimlessly. “Or else it won’t come true.”

We ate the cake in great clumsy chunks. Mum gave me the strawberries from her piece and I took great delight in their sharp-yet-sweet flavour. They were plump and tart, a world away from the pithy watery things normally on sale in the supermarket. They turned into a big lump in my throat as I realised Mum must have gone to a market or a shop further afield than Pallet Town to get fruit of this quality. Even Growlithe seemed to appreciate it, licking bits of cream and crumbs that fell to the ground. By the time the ten o’clock news came on, we were both full and happy, feeling lethargy drip into our bones.

“That cake was so good.” I moaned, rubbing my belly.

 “You mean for something your Mum made?”

“Hey, you said it, not me!”

Mum flicked a bit of leftover cream at me which Growlithe immediately leapt for and licked off my face. I stroked him gently, losing my hands in his billowing fluff. Of all the Pokemon in the world, at least Mum’s were good-natured, and I could trust them. They barely battled anymore since Mum had to change jobs, and only Growlithe was allowed outside of his Pokeball for any long periods of time. It was a pleasant change from how things used to be when Dad was still here.

Midnight ticked closer and closer. Mum dozed on the couch while reality TV shows I was only half watching flickered in the background. Growlithe had been relegated to the floor and was curled up in a ball, radiating warmth. I stretched my feet out towards him, feeling his warmth seep into my toes. It was times like this I was glad of Mum’s Pokemon. April could be a cold month, especially at night, and the weekly budget didn’t always stretch to heating.

The warmth was making me sleepy. I shimmied back into a sitting position and changed the channel. There was a rerun of _Top of the Poffs_ on and I instantly perked up. They always had a great baking segment on, even if it was sandwiched in-between a lot of Pokemon-centric dishes and Pokemon food recipes. And as far as Pokemon assistants went, Chef Kohli’s tiny Cherubi, Maraschino, was adorable enough to keep me watching.

Before I knew it, it was ten minutes to midnight. I couldn’t focus on the television anymore and turned it down. I glanced around our living room. Mum had done her best to strip away all mention of my father when he left, three years ago, but even she couldn’t bring herself to get rid of their wedding photo. It sat, too high for me to reach, on the top shelf of the bookcase, hidden behind baby photos of me. I knew the photo from memory though. Mum in her wedding dress, modest by today’s standard. Dad standing tall and proud, sunlight reflecting in his unwrinkled face. They looked so stupidly happy back then. It made me wonder how things went so badly wrong.

Two minutes to midnight. I felt sadness creep inside me and try to settle. Mum stirred awake and we started the countdown together.

As the clock turned to zeros, Mum nuzzled into me, squeezing so hard that I felt all the air compress out of me. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”  

“Thanks, Mum.”

She was so thin. I could feel the ridge of her spine under my arms. I was afraid if I hugged her any harder, I could snap her like a twig. I closed my eyes again and the words of my wish wriggled around my brain. I wished it again and again as

“ _I wish all our problems would go away._ ”

.-.-.

My room was the coldest in the house. Mum always tried to get Growlithe to sleep with me, to try to warm it up, in the months we couldn’t afford much heating. I didn’t like having him in there too long. I was always worried he’d set something on fire in his sleep or knock something over. He was particularly partial to lying across people in their sleep and I didn’t fancy being smothered. But I didn’t mind him nipping in and out. I couldn’t protest, anyway. After going through a phase of headbutting doors open, Mum had to devise strategies. The easiest of the lot was keeping bedroom doors ajar so he could get in and out if he wanted.

That’s why I didn’t think it was strange when my door opened that night.

Sleep pooled on my eyelids when I heard the creak of the door. It must have been three, maybe four in the morning. I was drifting hazily between sleep and wakefulness when the door opened. The allure of my bed, silky soft and billowing like a cloud, won out and I groaned into my pillow.

“Alright, Growlithe, if you’re coming in, get in.”

He didn’t jump up right away. My mind still drifting, I nestled further into my sheets and blankets, bracing myself for the inevitable bounce and groan of the springs. He often took his time to settle. I rolled over, curled into a ball, making space on the bed if he wanted it.

Moments passed. I snatched at fragments of a dream I wanted to go back to. I felt the indentation of a weight at the foot of the bed.  Something wet touched my cheek. Warm breath crept across the rest of my face. It tickled and I squirmed away from it. “Growlithe, go away…!” I batted my hand away and it collided with something soft.  A noise, like the soft expulsion of air, and doziness claimed me again.

The last thing I was aware of was the weight in the bed lifting and the noise of the door clicking closed. I sat up in a flurry of blankets, my eyes searching the inky blackness of the room. Darkness stared back at me.

There was nobody there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys! Wow, this rewrite has been a long time coming. I can't believe we're approaching ten years since Spirited was first written.
> 
> One of the things I felt I was missing a lot of during the original was developing the relationship between Sienna and Suzanne, her mother. So this chapter I think is much a gentler introduction to the Spirited world and it makes Sienna's future motivations, and character, a lot clearer.
> 
> Next chapter will pick up on the action!
> 
> Special thanks to those of you that read this fiction. I know OC Pokemon fics aren't hugely popular on Ao3 but it means a lot to me that some of you did choose to read it, and I hope it was an enjoyable read for you. Please do feel free to drop me a comment with any thoughts that you have.
> 
> Mega thanks to Superbeans for the beta-reading and the emotional support on this one!
> 
> See you next time!


	3. A Late Start

 

I overslept that morning, which, in hindsight, was the first hint that something wasn’t right.

Shedding the sleep from my brain, I stretched my aching limbs under the warm bedcovers. The room was blindingly bright. I glanced over at my window and realised I must have forgotten to shut the curtains. The sky was pink and rosy in the distance and a slight breeze danced its way inside, chilling my nostrils with the scent of sweet spring flowers.

Mum’s bedroom door was closed when I padded across the hall towards the bathroom. A sure sign she was having a rare and well-deserved lie in. Her days off were often infrequent and unpredictable, but she’d had this one pencilled in since January. The last time she’d had a day off, she hadn’t surfaced until after midday. Not that I blamed her, but gazing at her closed door, a pang of hope willed her to get up sooner rather than later. As much as her days off were rare, rarer still was a shared day off. And for something as special as my birthday, I wanted to spend it together.

The house was totally quiet when I slipped downstairs. Growlithe wasn’t in his basket by the front door so he must have fallen asleep in Mum’s room. I remembered her closed door and hoped he didn’t resort to headbutting his way out. I poked my head out into our garden to see if Mum had left Electrike or Houndour out for their morning run. No sign of them either. I wasn’t about to complain, though. While Growlithe was a pain, he was well-trained and didn’t bother me. Electrike and Houndour were energetic, mad balls of fur, always getting into scraps without warning. It wasn’t that I disliked them – much like Pokemon in general – I just didn’t particularly want much to _do_ with them.

There were three brightly, but messily, wrapped parcels sitting on the sofa. Almost too tempting to ignore, but I needed breakfast first. The milk had spoiled past the stage it was (probably) safe to drink so I compromised with dry cereal straight out of the packet. I put the television on, flicking aimlessly through the channels. Only Saturday morning Pokemon cartoons and dry news broadcasts. Eventually I settled on another cookery show, taking notes on a great recipe for black pepper and honeyed Miltank steak.

It was during an ad break that my concentration failed me and the three presents became impossible to ignore. I poked and prodded them experimentally, trying to deduce what they could be from the shape and feel alone. I had to force myself to put them down and push them towards the other end of the sofa once the program resumed.

Time ticked on. Another show came on that wasn’t as good at holding my attention. I checked the clock religiously every five or ten minutes, willing it to move faster. To stave off the boredom that was slowly encroaching my brain, I went into the kitchen and cut myself a slice of cake. Fifteen minutes later, I cut another. Five agonising minutes later, I was back at the presents.

Easily the largest present there was also the softest and squashiest. I poked it and squeezed it, trying to feel out what it was. Then I put my thumb through the wrapping, exposing a flash of royal blue fabric.

I’d gone too far _not_ to open it. At first, I entertained thoughts of opening it carefully and taping it back up before Mum came downstairs, but it was too fiddly trying to edge open the Sellotape pinning the edges down. I pulled out a glorious, royal blue hoodie that felt as soft as sinking your face into a pile of marshmallows. She’d even remembered to buy it two sizes bigger. I zipped myself into it immediately.

I’d broken the spell now. The second present was a fat tube shape that rattled when I tipped it back and forth. I shelled it of its wrapping and found a jar of my favourite sweets – soft strawberry fondants. Even two slices of cake and several handfuls of dry cereal down, I couldn’t resist opening the jar and popping three of the delicious sweets directly in my mouth, feeling them slowly melt into a sugary, syrupy goo on my tongue.

The third and final present made me laugh out loud, my hand splayed across my face to try and muffle the noise. She always gave me a gag present, a tradition that went back as far as I could remember. This time it was a tiny plush Growlithe that looked hand-stitched, with slightly wonky eyes, and holding a sign stitched with “I Ruff You!”

It was such a Mum thing to do – completely nonsensical and joyous, all at the same time. I wasn’t a plushie person, nor a sentimental one, but it was perfect all the same.

I just wished that she would get her bum down the stairs and join me.

A door opened somewhere upstairs. Finally, I grinned to myself, switching the television off and making a last-minute ferry of my plates back to the kitchen sink. As soon as they clattered down, I heard the living room door swing open. I darted back in, grinning wildly.

“Good morning, sleepyhead!”

“Grrrrrrowl!”

“Oh.” I felt the air deflate out of me as I looked at the orange and black bundle of fur in the doorway. “It’s just you.”

“Growl! Grow!”

“Shhh!” I winced. “You’re so loud!”

He just stared back at me; his eyes glazed over. “Grow!”

“I swear, for a supposedly intelligent Pokemon, you have the brains of a spoon.” I muttered.

“Growl!” The Pokemon’s tongue lolled out of his mouth. “Growl, Growl!”

“What? You want fed?”

“Growl!”

There was no way that answer was anything but a “yes”. Looked like I was on feeding duty after all. He wound his way round my feet as I went through to the back of the kitchen. Mum bought Pokemon food in huge 20kg bags when they were on sale and I hated lumbering them about. I couldn’t find the scooper so had to resort to directly shovelling handfuls of food into the bowl while Growlithe leapt around my feet. As I finished, my hand brushed the bottom of the bag and I felt my heart sink a little. Yet another thing we were getting low on.

After Growlithe finished snaffling down his food, I opened the back door and let him bound around outside. It was sunny, but not warm, with a keen breeze licking at my exposed legs. At least my new hoodie did a good job at keeping the cold out on my upper body.

My mind wandered as Growlithe scampered around the garden. Pallet Town had always been quiet, but it seemed to be getting even quieter over the past year. While other towns and cities were flourishing, Pallet Town seemed to be withering. The novelty of a Kanto champion three years in a row hailing from here had long since worn off and we never saw tourists anymore. The champions and their families relocated, and much of our livelihood went with them.

I suppose that was one of the only reasons Dad’s dojo was in any way good for the area. Trainers came down from Viridian, from Pewter, even from Cerulean every day to compete in the tournaments he held. And there was always a steady stream of breeders about, so at least kids from Pallet Town had other options for their starters. People settled, rented flats, bought properties. Now I couldn’t walk through the town centre without seeing at least half a dozen empty business and homes.

It was like the whole town was on life support. When I was a kid, there was palpable excitement about Professor Oak’s lab. Kids debated Bulbasaur, Charmander, Squirtle like their very existence depended on it. I remember kids, every six months, working themselves into a stupor to qualify as one of the school’s top 3 achievers to guarantee themselves a rare starter.  Then, as I got older, it was every 10 months. Then every year. The last time I heard of Professor Oak providing a Bulbasaur, Charmander and Squirtle for the Pokemon school was almost a year and a half ago.

If I craned my neck the right way, I could see the professor’s lab from the house. All the lights were off and curtains drawn – not a promising sign. It was three months until the summer holidays, the ideal time for the next crop of Pallet trainers to go off on their journeys. But I hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Oak or the research aides for months. Mum had been handsomely paid by the lab last Christmas for breeding an Electrike, Houndour and Growlithe for them. Whether they went to new trainers or went into research, I didn’t know. All I know is that the money she earned gave us the best Christmas since Dad left. Mum had been hopeful of them asking her again, coming to some sort of permanent arrangement, but it hadn’t happened. And, like everything else, the money ran out too quickly.

I whistled loudly for Growlithe who was nose deep in a pile of soil at the end of the garden. He’d finished his business ages ago and was taking advantage of my daydreaming to run around and get into mischief. When I closed the door after us, he shook himself madly, covering everything in a fine layer of earth. I decided I’d clean it up later.

It was past midday now and I was starting to tinge with annoyance. I switched the kettle on for tea – mourning the lack of milk and compensating with extra sugar. While the kettle bubbled, I drew the curtains, unlatched the window and let some fresh air waft in. Then, mug of tea in either hand, I began the perilous ascent upstairs, Growlithe making it his mission to get under my feet at every step.

It seemed to take an age to get upstairs. I listened carefully for noises of movement, wondering if she’d gotten up and gone to the bathroom while I had been outside with Growlithe. But the bathroom was unoccupied and her bedroom door was still closed.

This was a little weird. I heard a door open earlier. I know I had. And while Growlithe could just about master opening doors himself, I doubt he had the brains to close it after him. Unless Mum had been up to let him out and then climbed back into bed straight after. I suddenly felt bad for feeling impatient. She must be more tired than I thought if she was still needing more sleep. Two hands full of tea, I couldn’t knock, so had to haphazardly use my elbow to push the door handle down, then boot the door open.

The room was completely dark. It wasn’t a total surprise – Mum had those blackout curtains that made it their mission to suffocate every drop of light that dared enter. Teacups wobbling, I whispered into the inky darkness. “Mum? Are you still asleep?”

No reply. Not even a rustle of blankets. I set the cups down on the dresser, spilling a little hot liquid on my fingers. I snapped the light on, flooding the room with a harsh yellow glare.

Mum’s bed was empty. And completely made. It almost looked as if it hadn’t been slept in. My breath hitched in my chest as I glanced at her bedside table where her Pokeballs were normally kept. Two out of three – the Premier Balls she kept Electrike and Houndour in – were gone.

It was then that it hit me how cold the room was. Had Mum even _been_ in this room at all last night? A burst of panic shot through my veins, paralysing me. This wasn’t like Mum at all. She would _always_ tell me if she was going out, even if she had to wake me up at five in the morning. Even if it was just down the road to the shop. And then there was the matter of her Pokemon… Mum normally took Growlithe with her wherever she went and never took Electrike or Houndour unless she was planning a long trip.

I calculated something quickly in my head. I was awake around 10am. If I made the assumption that Mum had left _just_ before I woke up, that was three hours she had been gone. Where could she go in three hours? I knew she wasn’t working. It didn’t take three hours to nip to the local mart. What felt like an icy fist was clawing its way up my throat, its fingers poised ready to squeeze the life out of me.

“Grow?”

“Growlithe!” I spun around, my heart thudding in my chest. “Have… have you seen Mum? Did you see her leave this morning?”

Growlithe cocked his head to one side. He looked about as clueless as I felt.

“Okay, okay.” I muttered. “Don’t panic.” I drew Mum’s curtains and looked out the window, craning my head to look down the street. I had some mad notion I might see her trailing down the path, Pokemon in her wake, maybe laden down with shopping, apologising with a big stupid grin for forgetting to tell me she was going out. But the path remained stubbornly empty.

I had to be overreacting. There was no reason to be as inexplicably frightened as I was.  “Maybe… maybe she’s gone to next door. I’ll go and look.”

I was speaking aloud in a desperate attempt to keep myself calm. Working solely on autopilot, I dashed into my own room, pulled out the first pair of shoes I got my hands on and took the stairs two at a time. But my hand no sooner reached out for the front door when Growlithe suddenly let out a low, warning bark.

My arm froze in my midair. Growlithe’s normally perky ears had flattened against his head and his hackles were raised. A low, rumbling sound was emanating from deep inside his throat that sent my whole body awash with goosepimples. It wasn’t like I had never seen him be aggressive – I had seen Mum use him in battle, seen him become confrontational with the Pokemon that my father used to keep. He was a guard Pokemon by nature, but I had never seen him like this. Even when strangers had come to the house before. The ice in my veins was spreading.

 “Growlithe…” I hardly dared bring my voice above a whisper. “What’s wrong?”

He barked in response, his eyes firmly on the front door. My eyes slowly drifted towards it. My mouth had run completely dry and it was an effort to swallow.

“Is… is there someone outside?” I whispered.

“Growl!”

I heard something scuffle outside. My heart leapt to my throat and Growlithe bodily threw himself at the door, colliding with an awful crash. A scream escaped my throat. Growlithe clawed at the door with his massive paws, the noise of splintering wood filling my ears.

I trembled all over. Was there someone – _something_ – outside? And what was I supposed to do? What _could_ I do? My thoughts crashed into incoherence. I had Growlithe for protection – I’m pretty sure he was powerful – and he was certainly well trained. But I didn’t know the first thing about battling with him. Just because he listened to me in the house didn’t mean that he would obey any battle commands! What could I do? I backed further and further away.

Mum. I wanted Mum. I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes as Growlithe dissolved into a mess of barking and scrabbling at the door.

But Mum wasn’t here. And I had a Growlithe going berserk and a potential axe murderer at my door. I suddenly felt very small and very young, the memory of feeling so much like an adult this very morning had completely vanished.

But I had to do something. Even if it was just stopping Growlithe from breaking the door down.

“Stop, stop, stop!” I cried, putting my arms around the mane of fur at his neck. “It’s okay… It’s okay…” I whispered, trying to soothe him. “Stop. It’s okay.”

He whined softly but dropped his paws and lay down at my feet obediently. A few moments dripped past and I slowly tried to regain my courage. “ _You’re being utterly ridiculous, Sienna,_ ” I told myself firmly. “ _Acting like some scared little girl just cos Mum isn’t here. Come on, you coward. Open that door and prove to yourself nothing is there._ ”

No sooner had my hand reached out for the doorknob again, the letterbox rattled. I let out a screech as a single envelope fluttered through and landed on the floor below. Growlithe let out another furious bark and threw himself at the door with even more fury than before. Adrenaline pumping like it wanted to burst straight out of me and common sense gone, I lunged for the door handle.

Hands slick with sweat, it took me three attempts to get a hold of it properly. I shoved it open and Growlithe went tearing past. Half-expecting to be jumped by an indescribable monster or some psychopath or just a whole _swarm_ of Pokemon, it took me a full five seconds to comprehend what I was actually staring at.

Absolutely nothing.

My knees trembled as I staggered a few steps outside. I looked up and down the garden, looking for some hint, some validation that someone was there. But the garden was empty, things looked totally undisturbed. The only sign that something was wrong was Growlithe dashing up and down the garden. And the envelope sitting on the floor.

An envelope with my name on it.

Written in my mum’s handwriting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note
> 
> The eagle eyed or well-remembered of you from the original story will notice some of the events here happen slightly differently compared to the original! There's a reason for all the slight changes I make, so please keep reading to discover why!
> 
> The story is a slower starter than the original too - so please bear with me while I get the setup sorted! We will be on our journey with Sienna soon!
> 
> Thank you in earnest to nen, CrimsonDoom and the guest for your comments and your kudos! 
> 
> Special thanks again to Superbeans for his editing services!
> 
> See you on the next one! Sienna will make her first steps to the life of a trainer!


	4. Isolation

Mum had been missing for four hours, twenty-seven minutes and thirty-one seconds when I finally opened the letter.

" _My lovely daughter,_

_If you're reading this, then it means I have already left. I know you're probably confused and scared and I'm so sorry I had to do this._

_Something has happened regarding your father in the Hoenn region. I need to go there immediately to sort it out. It may take days; it could take months. I just don't know right now._

_It is very important that you stay where you are. Go to school, look after the house, carry on life as normal. I have left money in the usual place and Growlithe is there with you. He will keep you safe. You MUST keep him with you at all times._

_It is very important that you do not try to contact me. I can't go into detail but you must NOT attempt to get in touch. You must NOT follow me. I have always respected your wishes to shun the life of a Pokemon trainer, but without their protection, you would be in too much danger. All I ask now is that you are patient, keep safe and wait for my return._

_I'm sorry. Throughout my life I have not been entirely honest with you. I will explain everything when I come home._

_All my love,_

_Mum_

_P.S. I'm serious. Keep Growlithe with you at all times. Nowhere is safe. Remain at home. I don't want to see you hurt._

Her normal delicate print had degraded into an untidy scrawl by the time the letter had reached its end. It had been written in a hurry. I let the letter fall to the ground, my hands shaking and tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

I couldn't believe what I had just read. My mother had taken off to some God-forsaken region hundreds, maybe even thousands, of miles away. And after my  _father,_ of all people! And I'd been forbidden to follow!

This can't be happening, I thought to myself. It had to be a joke, a wind-up, a great big laugh at my expense. It was easier to believe than it being true! I threw myself onto the couch and broke into sobs.

I cried for what felt like hours. Bitterness, disappointment and fear wound themselves around my brain like a tightening noose. I couldn't make sense of any of it. My father, Hoenn, danger, Mum gone, something about her not being honest with me… It was like I was trying to fit together a jigsaw puzzle with half the pieces missing.

Finally, when my body ached and I had no more tears to cry, reality slowly bled back into my consciousness. When I eventually came to, the first thing I noticed was that Growlithe had curled himself up into a ball next to me. He was radiating a warmth that crept into my aching body, like I had just sunk into a warm bath. I couldn't help but wrap my arms around his fuzzy neck, soothing my swollen face into his soft fur.

"What am I gonna do?"

He whined at me in response. His large round eyes were full of sadness, an expression I could never remember seeing on a Pokemon before. I wondered if he really understood what was going on, or if he was just attuned to my emotions. Pokemon were good at that, Mum always told me when I was younger. She also said it was why other Pokemon reacted weirdly to me. Because they could tell I was frightened.

I was frightened now. There was something in the letter that was bothering me, shoving its way to the front of my brain and flooding it. I fished the letter out from under the rug and scanned it through again.

" _Nowhere is safe_."

My brain flicked into autopilot mode. I had left the door to the house wide open while I had been crying. There were windows open upstairs. Now that my brain had mostly cleared, I knew I had a few more pieces of the puzzle – the presence in my room last night, the letter delivered by no-one, Growlithe's unease at something unseen behind the door – and they all spelled out trouble.

My body flushed with a surge of panic as I saw the open door gently thud against the wall, pushed open by the breeze. I flew out of my seat, bolting and locking the door in two seconds flat. Still not convinced, I heaved my back against it. When it remained firmly steadfast, I fixed my eyes on the stairs. I needed to secure the upstairs.

It took a full fifteen minutes of checking rooms, locking windows and investigating every single cupboard and wardrobe before I finally felt secure in the house again. The upstairs still felt weird to me, the memory of the presence in my room burrowing its way deep into my brain. I hurried down the stairs and sat down heavily, pulling Growlithe close to me.

I wished the time would pass quicker. Seconds ticked by agonisingly slowly. The house was quiet. Too quiet. I turned the television on but the burst of loud voices felt alien and startling, and I quickly turned it off.

My mind wandered in the quiet. It kept returning to the letter, like waves, doomed to return to shore. Mum had said she had left money in "the usual place", a dodgy floorboard under the bed in the spare bedroom. She'd started it as a habit, five or six years ago, while my father was still living with us. Every wage she got, she'd put a few notes into it, no matter how big or small the wage. "Saving for a rainy day," she said, and forbade me from ever going near it. So I didn't. Not even when I needed new shoes for school or money for lunch. I couldn't understand why, even on the months we really struggled, that we couldn't take from the secret fund.

By the time I prised up the floorboard, I still may not have understood, but boy was I grateful. At first, I couldn't see anything and groped around in a panic. Then, my fingers brushed something cool and hard and I unearthed a small, heavy box. Inside was hundreds of notes, some crumpled, some pristine, and fistfuls of golden coins. There was no way I could count them all but a quick estimate put me at a couple of thousand Pokedollars. At least.

Something thudded into the bottom of my stomach. Just how long had she been saving? And was this – this disappearing act – the whole reason  _why_  she had been saving? Had she been planning this since five or six years ago? Maybe even longer? Trying to push the thoughts aside, I took six notes, totalling $600 and folded them into my purse. I replaced the box carefully. I didn't dare leave it lying around.

I paced around the house, incapable of sitting still. I ended up in Mum's bedroom, perched at the end of her immaculately made bed. I pulled my mobile phone out, looked through my messages, viewed Mum's number in the phonebook. The words from her letter ran through my head as I stared at her name. " _It is very important that you do not try to contact me. I can't go into detail but you must NOT attempt to get in touch._ "

My whole body trembled with anticipation as I took in the number on the tiny glowing screen. Surely it wouldn't hurt? Surely she couldn't be in that much danger after only being gone for half a day? She'd done this to me, she'd abandoned me, run off without telling me what was happening! Surely I had the right to phone her to find out!

My thumb clicked the Call button before I knew what was happening. It rang once, twice, my heart rate increasing with every second. I pressed the phone against my ear, willing with all my might I would hear a click and then her voice. I so badly wanted to hear her voice, get some reassurance, even if it was just for a few seconds.

I waited. The call rang out. I pressed the button again. Again, it rang out. Feeling concerned, but not deterred, I lay back against the pillows and tried again.

As the phone rang, under the pillows, I felt a vibration. I dug my fingers underneath the covers and fished something out. I stared at it dumbly for a few moments and then the tears came all over again. Sobs punched their way out of me, pain wracking my ribs, my lungs and my guts.

I was holding Mum's phone, my own name flashing on the screen as "incoming call".

I let both phones fall, buried my head in Mum's pillow and let my life crumble into my fingertips.

It was hopeless. And I was alone.

* * *

I didn't sleep that night. I sat, perched on the edge of the couch, the television down low and all the lights turned on. I felt empty and hollow, like I was sitting at the bottom of a dark pit. Something gnawed in my stomach that had both nothing, and everything, to do with the fact I hadn't eaten. Growlithe snoozed on the rug in front of the TV, radiating a gentle warmth. Occasionally he opened one eye, looked at me, and then huffed back into sleep. I sat holding the plush Growlithe that Mum had given me. I thought of her wrapping it and cried all over again.

As the sun peeked over the horizon, something inside me snapped. "I can't live like this…" I said in despair.

I needed to eat. The fridge was basically bare aside from a few slices of my birthday cake. It seemed like a lifetime ago Mum and I were sitting in the living room, sharing cake and enjoying each other's company. When I took an experimental lick from the cream, I shuddered and had to spit it out. It had spoiled.

There was nothing for it. Pokemart it was. I forced myself into a shower, trying to wash as much of the past day off me as I could. I did feel better afterwards, I couldn't deny it, but the thought of going out into town still sent fear trembling towards my heart.

It was one of the few occasions I was grateful for Pokemon. I clipped Growlithe into his collar and leash (Mum despised them normally but even she had to admit that young Pokemon were often unpredictable) and stepped out into the cool morning air.

The Pokemart was a short, ten-minute walk away, in the middle of town. My usual walk took me along the edge of the river, fringed with trees, up past several blocks of houses. Normally I would take time to enjoy the walk, watch the canopy of trees releasing their leaves like a child scattering them to the awaiting breeze. But today, my feet moved with urgency. Even Growlithe struggled to keep up.

The town was quiet, even for the early morning. A delivery van parked haphazardly on the kerb at the Pokemon mart was the only sign of life, the driver popping in and out with trays of supplies. I tied Growlithe to the lamppost outside, with stern warnings to stay where he was, and went inside.

I hadn't gone shopping with a full purse in what felt like years. I ticked items off a mental list as I wandered the aisles. Bread, milk, dry pasta, cheese, cold meat, some fruit and veg; simple meals that would keep me going for the next couple of days. I dithered over the large bags of Pokemon food. There was no way I could carry a 20kg bag but Growlithe needed some extra in case we suddenly ran out. I made do with the 5kg bag. It was a short walk. I could handle it.

The disinterested cashier packed my bags for me. Really slowly. I stood there, feeling anxiety creep over my spine as he picked up every item, investigated it, then ever-so-slowly scanned it through, just to be lowered carefully into the bottom of the bag. All this without a word, or even a look, in my direction. I wanted to protest when he packed the big bag of pasta on top of the bread, but didn't dare, in case he repacked the entire bag. I didn't have time for this. For some reason, being out of the house felt wrong. Like a little kid sneaking out of bed in the middle of the night.

I handed over a $100 bill and cringed, waiting for him to question it, but he cashed it and changed it, again, without a word in my direction. I gathered up my bags, grimacing at their weight, and headed for the door, taking one quick glance out the window at Growlithe to make sure he was okay.

My bags crashed to the floor. A man was standing over Growlithe, his hand clenched around the leash tethering him to the pole.

_Keep Growlithe with you at all times. Nowhere is safe_.

Panic surged inside me and my words came tumbling out in an enraged rush. "Get away from that Growlithe!"

By the time I pushed my way outside, the man had already disappeared. Growlithe was barking and growling fiercely, but the moment I placed a trembling hand on his fur, he calmed. I checked him all over, suddenly terrified someone was out to hurt him, but what terrified me was his leash. A neat, thin slice had almost severed leash from collar.

"Oh God, Growlithe…!" I whispered, dropping to my knees and pulling him into a tight hug. Suddenly feeling massively vulnerable and exposed. Someone had just tried to take my only companion that was left.

Who could do this? Thieves? I knew of Pokemon thieves, of course. But my only thought was Mum. Did this have something to do with Mum?

"Hey, Miss? You forgot this."

I hadn't noticed the disinterested cashier follow me out of the shop. He held out his arms, offering my dropped bags. He'd even repacked them.

"Uh… thanks." I murmured, taking them back. "Listen, um… You didn't happen to see the guy that was standing out here, did you?"

"What guy?"

"A guy standing next to my… I mean, my moth… this Growlithe that I'm looking after. I think he was trying to t-take him."

"Didn't see no guy, miss. Sorry about that. Though some of the other ladies reported seeing weirdoes around these parts lately."

"Weirdoes?" I wrinkled my nose.

"Yeah. Mrs Laing said she saw someone pressed up against the window of her living room late on Friday night."

Mrs Laing was the closest neighbour to us. Her house was a minute down the road from ours. I thought of the presence in my bedroom that same night. My mouth ran dry. "Did… did she say what time?"

"About 2am. Probably."

"I… see…" I was beginning to feel very woozy on my feet and it was nothing to do with the fact I hadn't slept.

"I wouldn't worry about it. You know what Mrs Laing's like." He mimed the act of drinking from a bottle. "Probably she imagined it."

"Fair enough." I tightened my hand around Growlithe's leash. "I… I better go. Thanks for this."

I must have done the entire walk home with my head over my shoulder. Growlithe trotted along beside me happily, as if he had totally forgotten the entire ordeal earlier. I desperately tried to remember any details about the man who had approached him. But it was like he had been totally blotted from my memory, like water spilled over a painting.

I ate lunch in silence, barely even paying attention to what it was, straining my ears for any noise. But Pallet Town remained sickeningly – mercifully? – quiet. Not a single person walked by the house. I debated going to Mrs Laing's house to ask about the man that she saw at her window, but there was still some part of me that hoped she had just been seeing things after one-too-many gin and tonics. A functional alcoholic, Mum claimed. A headcase, more like…

I was beginning to feel like a headcase myself. I couldn't stay focused on anything very long. I couldn't stop reading the letter Mum gave me. It was already looking dog-eared from how many times it had been folded and refolded into my pockets. The tiny plush Growlithe she gave me was also living in my back pocket and I took it out from time to time to squeeze it for comfort.

I read the letter again, working my fingers in the soft plush as I did so. I hadn't even reached a third of the way down when something made me stop.

I repeated the line out loud several times. " _Something has happened regarding your father in the Hoenn region._ "

The Hoenn region. It echoed in my brain like I was shouting in an empty corridor. I scrabbled for the TV remote and flicked through the endless channels until I came across the Hoenn Regional News.

" _And to a recap of our top story, the Hoenn region champion has once again defeated his string of challengers…"_

I watched the news over and over again looking for any mention of an incident or something unusual happening in Hoenn. But there was nothing. Nothing at all. Just boring stuff about politics, controversies about the economy and fluffy sob stories about people and Pokemon working together to overcome adversity. The exact same type of stories I got in Kanto. Despite it all, I let out a sigh. At least for the moment, everything seemed to be okay.

Soon, the news blurred into white noise. Sleep came for me remarkably easily.

After what felt like only a few minutes of glorious sleep, I woke up with a start. My eyes opened to total darkness. I must have been asleep longer than I thought, as it was dark outside too. The lights in the living room were off, as well as the TV. I groaned, trying to quickly turn them back on. When they didn't work, I fumed to myself silently. I must have let the electricity meter run out.

I felt around for one of Mum's candles that she kept on the bookcase. Of course, I had no idea where the matches were kept. I whistled for Growlithe, listening carefully for the scampering of paws. But they didn't come.

That's weird, I thought to myself as I gingerly made my way out into the hallway. No matter where in the house he was, he'd always come running when I called. "Growlithe!" I called with another whistle. "Come here! I need you to help me light a candle!"

There was a thin beam of light coming from the streetlamps outside, illuminating a small section of the hallway. It wasn't much but it was a start. I needed to get out into the garden to check the outside meter, just in case it had actually run out and it wasn't a problem with the wires. I groped my way to the front door and wrestled with the key in the lock.

_Crash!_

I froze. The noise rung through the house for what felt like an age. Had something fallen over upstairs? Had Growlithe knocked something over by accident? "G…Growlithe? What… what are you doing?"

Then, the unmistakable sound of footsteps above my head.

I backed myself against the wall, my legs trembling. Someone was here. "Growlithe…!" I hissed into the darkness, as loud as I dared. "Growlithe, please come here…!"

I needed to get out. If someone was in the house I did  _not_ want to be there for them to find. I slid the key properly into the lock and turned it, feeling it click open. A sigh of relief left me.

But when I looked up towards the door again, my heart dropped right into my stomach.

Staring back at me through the frosted glass, was a face.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes
> 
> Hi again! I'm here with another update!
> 
> I'm hoping to keep the updates once every week or two weeks, depending on how much I can get done on the weekends. Being a teacher full time is a time-consuming job! I can normally get a fair bit done on Fridays and Saturdays, so hopefully once or twice a week!
> 
> I'm so excited to get Sienna started on her journey next chapter - I hope you'll be along for the ride too!
> 
> See you on the next one!


	5. Guardian Souls

The first mistake I made was to start screaming. Pro tip: never start to scream if there's someone in your house. Especially if there's more than one person. The second mistake I made, after the face at the door disappeared, was to follow it.

I wrestled with the door, tugging it open and emerging out into the garden. The air cooled itself on my sweaty body as I desperately scanned the garden looking for the intruder. But the darkness was thick and oppressive. I could barely see a hand in front of my face. But all the same, I started to walk, dragging my feet on purpose in case of anything lurking in the grass.

"Magnemite, use Flash!"

I had walked maybe thirty paces when a burst of light erupted. It seared into my vision and made me yelp and stagger backwards. My heel caught something unseen and I upended, landing on my back into the grass. I pushed myself up as my eyes slowly adjusted with the introduction of light.

There was something… someone… at the side of the house. A weird, blocky silhouette. Two people? No… one person, holding a walkie-talkie. And a Pokemon next to him.

"Hurry up." The man's voice was harsh, like dirt and grit being rubbed directly into your ears. "The girl's here so we've got to be quick. Where's the Growlithe?"

"G….Growlithe!" I staggered back to my feet, ignoring the twinges of pain ricocheting up and down my spine. "You… you bastards leave my Growlithe alone!"

The man slowly turned his head towards me and I realised with a pang of terror what had unnerved me so much about the face at the door. The man was wearing a mask that covered most of his face, leaving only eyes visible above the rigid fabric. Curiously, while the man's clothes were exclusively black, the mask was much brighter, blocked with silver and accented with blue.

And something about it was familiar.

The man locked eyes with me and didn't look away, even when he spoke into the walkie talkie. "Hurry up. Kid's spotted me. Get the Growlithe and get down here."

"What do you want with that Growlithe?!" I yelled.

This time, he ignored me.

"Are you deaf?!" I took a couple of steps forward, an unsettling courage fuelling my footsteps.

The man fixed me with another cool stare. There was something so glaringly unnerving about seeing a pair of human eyes alongside the grim caricature of a mask he was wearing. The Magnemite floating lazily by the top of his head suddenly flitted forward to close the gap between us. I lost my courage, my body seized, and I found I couldn't move.

In the silence of the night, the man's voice was as loud as if he was standing right next to me.

"Don't be stupid, kid." The man said dryly. "Let us get what we came for and you won't get hurt."

"What… what are you even looking for?" I yelled, feeling the back of my throat burn with the effort. Tears pricked my eyes and I tried to blink them away. "Where… where is my mother?!"

What felt like an explosion ripped through the upper floor of the house. Without thinking, I threw my arms up to protect myself. At the force of the impact, spiky shards of glass rained down on me, accompanied by a shock of fiery heat. Something thudded into the grass behind me, propelled by the blast. I glanced at it briefly – a Pokemon that reminded me of a mushroom. I couldn't identify it.

"Growl!"

My heart soared into my mouth as Growlithe leapt from the broken window upstairs, the shadow of someone behind him stopping just short of grabbing him. He landed lithely on all four paws, bounding between myself and the man with the Magnemite. As he rounded on them, intense flames whipped up around him. They span around him like a tornado, sending sparks and embers glimmering into the inky sky.

I was going to be okay! Growlithe was here, a guardian of fire, looking ferocious. These guys didn't stand a chance!

Then suddenly, the Magnemite flitted above Growlithe's head and the air was filled with a crackling of electricity. Growlithe let out a whimper that seemed to cut the night in two. The flames disappeared into smoke that was taken with the wind and Growlithe thudded into the ground. His legs had given out! He was totally immobile, his limbs twitching. I glanced up at the Magnemite in horror.  _Thunder Wave? Paralysis?_

"Hurry up, you absolute fool." The man yelled into the walkie talkie. "I've secured it for now."

"No, no, no, no no…" I whispered, my voice hardly more than a croak.

Stowing his walkie talkie away, the man strode forward towards us. Common sense told me to put as much distance between myself and him as I could. I tried to run to Growlithe, fuelled by adrenaline, but his Magnemite dashed between us, discharging a shock of electrical energy. I winced at the sharp pain, winded.

"Keep her back, Magnemite." The man spat and the Magnemite spun around me, more electricity crackling from its body.

The pain came in short, sharp jabs, like when you brush up against something burning hot. Nothing that caused any severe pain on its own, but still just enough to keep me incapacitated and rooted to the spot. I raised my head up weakly, feeling the buzz of electrical energy jangle through my veins, to see the man had been joined by his accomplice. Between them, they were carrying something that looked like a net.

"Growlithe!" I cried out. "Please, please get up!"

But Growlithe was still lying on the ground, frozen to the spot. It wasn't his fault, I knew that. He was paralysed. But that meant I was on my own! I had to get to him, stop those men from taking him. The words of Mum's note spread themselves across my brain until they were all I could think of. " _Growlithe is there with you. He will keep you safe. You MUST keep him with you at all times._ "

If I didn't have him, what would I do?

My legs carried me towards him before I could even think about what I was doing. The man with the Magnemite paused only momentarily, a command leaving his mouth like he was about to sign my life away.

"Stop her."

I felt a pain unlike any I had ever felt before. From behind, Magnemite slammed into my back with a force like a cannonball. The ground came up to meet me, shattering into my knees and sending explosions of searing pain through what felt like every cell of my body.

Darkness clung to the corners of my vision. Above me, I heard chuckling and a shadow fell across me.

"Don't worry, kid. We'll give your regards to your mother."

The pain vanished almost immediately to be replaced with white hot fury. I wrenched my head up to see the man walking away, approaching the quivering mass that was Growlithe.

"Growlithe!" I yelled. "Come on, boy! You've got to get up! These bastards know where Mum is! Come on!"

Growlithe whimpered, a sharp whine that cut through my heart.

"Shut her up. Now."

There was an urgency to the man's voice now, a hardened edge, something I hadn't heard before. I heard Magnemite chirp and click above me and I braced myself for the blow. It was almost a relief when the electricity came, fizzling like nothing in comparison to the physical impact.

My relief dissipated when I realised I could no longer move my limbs.

I heard the sound of another blow and a high-pitched whine from Growlithe. My mind was awash with panic. What were they doing to him? As I panicked, trying to get my body to cooperate, I heard the two men grunt and argue in hushed tones. What were they doing? What did they want with Growlithe?

And Mum… how did they know Mum?

My heart felt like it had been torn open. Two days ago, I was an ordinary girl waiting to celebrate her birthday. Two days ago, I had a Mum and a life that, even though wasn't the flashiest or most exciting, still belonged to me. I was happy. Now, I was under attack, Mum was gone and the only thing that could protect me, my last tie to Mum was going to be taken away too. And then I really would be all alone.

I had to get Growlithe to do something. He was my only hope. I knew enough about paralysis to know that Pokemon could eventually regain body function and move after a while, even battle if enough time had passed. It was a small hope, but it was the only one I had.

"Growlithe!" I cried. "If you can hear me, please! You've got to get us out of this!"

"I thought I told you to shut that girl up!"

"I did! Stupid useless Magnemite!" I heard the Magnemite screech in pain, alongside a hollow  _clang_. "I'll take care of her myself!"

I tried to force my body to move. But there was no strength in my arms. And no way to protect myself when the toe of his boot smashed into the side of my head.

I could taste blood. It was filling my throat, almost to the point that I could barely breathe. I coughed and spluttered, desperate for air until my stomach heaved and I retched, belching out most of the metallic tang.

I could still speak. And I would keep on trying until my last breath. I wasn't going to go out like this.

I had one option left.

I summoned up every last ounce of courage I had.

"Growlithe!" I cried. "You can do it! Take these guys out!"

Growlithe barked and I heard the noise of something ripping. The two men cursed and swore, and I saw a dark shape lumber across my vision.

"I thought you got Magnemite to paralyse it!"

"Calm down, it's weak! It won't be able to move long! It's still paralysed, look!"

Something wet touched the corner of my cheek and I wanted to cry with relief as I breathed in his familiar smell. Tears started to run down my cheeks as I turned my aching head to meet the gaze of his soft, amber eyes. Eyes that were a lighthouse in the darkness.

"We gotta take these guys out…"

My strength was fading fast. The two men were approaching me, the Magnemite following obediently.

"We got one chance."

"Growl!"

"Come on. For me. And Mum."

"Change of plan. Take her  _and_ the Growlithe. He won't be pleased but she's seen too much."

I tried to ignore what they were saying. It didn't matter now. All that mattered was getting both me and Growlithe out of this alive. As I stared deeply into Growlithe's eyes, for some reason, a memory resurfaced.

" _A window to a Pokemon's soul is in its eyes, Sienna. You could be the most powerful person in the world, you could know everything there is to know about a Pokemon, but if you can't look into its eyes and gain its trust, all of that is for nothing. You understand what I'm saying?"_

_"Yes, Dad…"_

I looked into Growlithe's eyes like I was trying to find the stars on a blackened night and something seemed to click into place.

I spoke two words into the silence of the night.

"Flame Wheel!"

The sky was set ablaze with rings of fire, and I knew no more.


	6. Chapter 6

There was someone calling my name, far away, like a voice rousing me out of the deepest depths of sleep.

"…enna? Sienna?"

My eyes felt like they someone had glued them shut. The slightest movement, even the experimental twitching of my eyelids, sent white hot pain through my body. After what felt like an age, I cracked them open. Light flooded my vision, and when it passed, a few agonising moments later, I made out a blurry silhouette of a face.

A man's face.

"Dad?" I said stupidly.

"Not your father, no." The voice was irritatingly familiar, but I couldn't place it.

My body slowly came back under my control and I tried to push myself up. I was dimly aware of a pressure at the base of my stomach. I flexed my muscles to test them but the weigh didn't lessen. Panic hit me like a slap in the face. What had happened? Why couldn't I feel my legs? Had I lost them!?

I grasped downwards as far as I could, my hand touching something soft, warm and bulky. Instantly, I recoiled back.

"It's okay, Sienna. It's just Growlithe."

"Growl…ithe?"

Even saying the word felt wrong, like I was speaking a language I had no knowledge of. Then the memories hit me like I had been doused with ice cold water. The intruders, Growlithe, Mum, the spinning of flames before the blackness. I cried out, sat bolt upright and with pain shrieking through my body, grabbed Growlithe's fur with both hands.

"Easy, Sienna, easy. The ambulance is on its way."

"Don't… need one!" I gulped for air, trying to calm my breathing down.

"You've had a shock." The voice came again. "They just need to make sure you're alright."

I finally glanced up to the source of the voice. My jaw hung open as I realised who it was. Our neighbour, renowned Pokemon professor and suspected recluse of the past few years, Professor Oak.

"Wh…what the hell are you doing here?"

I didn't mean it to sound as rude as it probably came off. However, Professor Oak just chuckled good-naturedly. "I was out on a walk to try and feed a nest of baby Pidgey. Mother's abandoned them, poor things."

"Really?" I frowned.

"W-well. I'd heard reports of strangers hanging around Pallet Town. Naturally, one worries about that sort of thing." He lowered his voice slightly. "One of my aides contacted me late last night about possibly seeing a fire in this part of town. Of course, the only person around these parts who keeps any Fire Pokemon is Suzanne, of course."

My mouth ran dry.

"Then I come here and find you… sleeping… on the lawn surrounded by a lot of scorch marks and a very worried looking Growlithe. And try as I might, no sign of your mother."

It was becoming increasingly hard to breathe.

Professor Oak's voice was so soft I could barely hear him. "So… what's happened, Sienna?"

A blurt of a siren cut through the two of us like a knife. As I looked past the garden, I saw blue flashing lights. Growlithe started to bark as the ambulance struggled up the narrow, winding road and pulled up next to the house. Professor Oak's hand on my arm jerked me back into my senses, but before I could even answer him, two paramedics descended on me.

"Next of kin only in the ambulance." One of them told Oak firmly as they bustled around me. "Even for you, Professor, sorry."

The paramedics were surprisingly strong as they bustled me across to the back of the ambulance. I glanced back over my shoulder and mouthed "Help me!" to the Professor.

"Drop by later." He mouthed back.

I was bundled into the ambulance with all the grace of being ejected from a bar. It took several minutes of begging and a couple of stray teats to convince them to let Growlithe climb inside with me. I have to admit, I felt better, with his warm fur sitting in my lap. As the first paramedic continue the checks, working in a blur of bright lights and questions, the doors were shut and I watched my family home slowly disappear into the distance.

.-.-.

It was 2pm by the time I was finally released from the hospital. Nearly five hours of waiting and awkward questions, to be sent home with a diagnosis of mild concussion and a patronising leaflet about "the dangers of wayward Fire Pokemon" felt somewhat anticlimactic.

Clutching a pack of pills in my hand that I had absolutely no interest in using, Growlithe and I had no choice but to catch the local shuttle back to Pallet Town. By the time we made it back to the house, it was closer to 3pm.

The garden looked even worse in the afternoon sun than it had this morning. I walked up the path with my eyes firmly downwards, not wanting to look at the charred grass and broken glass.

Luckily, whoever had been in the house last night obviously hadn't come back. I sent Growlithe in before I dared step foot inside, filled with dread that someone could still be lying in wait there. But Growlithe came out looking happy and I finally felt brave enough to enter. While I had been in the hospital, I had tried, in vain, for hours to try and piece together what had happened after I blacked out. Nothing was coming to me. The best explanation I could muster was that Growlithe's last ditch attack had scared them all off and they didn't dare come back.

For now, at least.

I could only face the living room first. The plush Growlithe Mum had given me for my birthday was lying abandoned on the carpet next to the sofa. It was the first thing I picked up and stowed carefully in the pocket of my hoodie before I dared venture upstairs.

Upstairs was much harder to deal with. My bedroom, Mum's bedroom, even the bathroom and spare bedroom had been totally ripped apart. Books, clothes, bedsheets had been left strewn all over the floor like a tornado had been through. Growlithe let out a long, low growl as I stood in the middle of the carnage in Mum's room. Tears pricked at my eyes and I wiped them impatiently Who were these people? What did they want? And, most importantly, would they be coming back?

The doorbell rang and I almost leapt from my skin. Growlithe pricked his ears up but didn't start growling. After taking a moment to catch my breath, I made my way back to the front door.

It was Professor Oak. I remembered with some shame his instruction to come to see him before I went to the ambulance.

"Oh, Professor…! I was just—"

"Don't worry about it." The professor raised a hand to silence me. "May I come in?"

"S…sure."

He picked his way through the mess of the living room, mercifully silent about the state of the place. Growlithe pranced around his feet, making a big fuss of him, covering him in licks from his slobbery tongue. I offered him a cup of tea which he declined.

"So how are you feeling?" he asked the moment he sat down.

I perched on the arm of the chair. I had a notion that if Mum were here, she would tell me off for it. I slid down guiltily. "I've…been better."

"What did you tell the hospital?"

"They asked if I'd been drinking." I admitted with a half chuckle. "I thought that may have been easier than—"

"Than whatever "it" actually was?"

I nodded silently.

A moment slipped by. Growlithe licked my hand, tickling the tips of my fingers.

"So…" The professor seemed to be choosing his words carefully. "What is going on here, Sienna?"

A breath escaped me in the form of a sob and suddenly I was crying. "It's Mum…!"

"I gathered." Professor Oak said softly. "She's gone missing, yes?"

"Yes!" I said breathlessly. "She left me this note… told me to keep Growlithe with me. And not to follow her! She didn't know when she'd be back! Then those guys turned up last night and they seemed to want Growlithe and they knew who she was and I… I just don't know what to do!"

Professor Oak let me cry for a good ten minutes. When I finally got to the gasping and slurping stage when I had no more tears to cry, he spoke again.

"What do you want to do?"

I looked up at him. "What do you…mean?"

"Sienna." There was a very serious look in Oak's eyes. "Staying here on your own at your mother's request… that ceased to be an option the moment those people turned up in Pallet Town."

I felt faint. For a moment, I thought I actually was going to faint until Growlithe butted his head under mine and I was able to breathe in his soft smell and feel the tickle of his fur.

"I… I know." I said shakily.

"So, what do you want to do?"

I looked around the house. It looked so big and empty, like my mere presence couldn't even hope to fill it the unknown number of months it would take Mum to return. I thought of the mess upstairs, the masked intruders, how stupidly defenceless I was. And while Growlithe had scared those guys off once, there was no guarantee he could do it again.

"I… I don't think I can stay here."

My voice sounded small and pathetic in the huge expanse of the house. Professor Oak covered my trembling hand with his. It dwarfed mine, tough and leathery, but so comforting I wanted to hang onto it like a baby and never let go.

"I think that's a sensible decision, Sienna." He withdrew his hand and I felt a shiver rock my entire body. "But what is the alternative?"

"I… I don't know." I admitted shakily.

"Do you know where she went?"

"Sort of…" I found I couldn't look him in the eye for fear of bursting into tears. "The note she left me said that she was going to Hoenn." For some reason, I didn't want to mention the part about my father.

"Hoenn, eh? What a puzzle. I wonder what's going on there."

"I don't know. I've checked the news, but… nothing."

"That doesn't surprise me." Oak said wisely. "If something is happening that requires her attendance, perhaps it's not something the media would pick up on."

There was a long silence. Growlithe wound himself around my feet and collapsed across them.

"Professor?"

"Yes, Sienna?"

"How long does it take to get to Hoenn?"

Oak considered it for a few moments. "That depends."

"On what?"

"The way you go." He said with a short shrug. "Most people will travel down to Vermilion to take a ferry to either Slateport, Lilycove or Dewford if they're feeling particularly brave. Getting to Vermillion on foot could take you up to a week or two."

"A week or two? Wh-what about transport? Aren't there bus links or something?"

"Well, of course. But you wouldn't be wanting to travel that quickly, would you?"

"Of course I would!" I said indignantly. "She's already been gone a few days; I can't let her get even further away!"

Professor Oak's leathery face creased in confusion. "But Sienna… you don't intend to tell me that you won't be training?"

"Training?" I frowned. "What do you mean training? Pokemon training?"

"Is there any other kind?"

"P-professor," I stammered, trying to stifle exasperated laughter. "I'm not a trainer! This Growlithe isn't mine, it's my mother's."

But even as I said that, I remembered her words. "Keep Growlithe with you at all times." My hand drifted down to touch his soft fur.

Oak watched my face expectantly. "Sienna?"

"Mum told me to keep Growlithe with me at all times." I murmured. "So if I went after her, I'd have to take him with me."

"Another sensible decision!" Oak said. "And you and I both know that travelling on your own without protection of a Pokemon, especially across regions, is not advisable."

I muttered something noncommittally.

"But Sienna, you must know." Professor Oak dropped his voice again. "You would not be permitted to take Growlithe with you."

"What? Why?"

"Pokemon are registered to one trainer only. And without the written consent of that trainer, you could not take him with you. You would technically be stealing. And any time you would enter a Pokemon Centre, it would be picked up on immediately."

"You mean…" I stammered. "I can't take him with me?"

"No. I'm afraid not."

"But I need to keep him with me!" I leapt to my feet and started to pace up and down the living room. Growlithe whined softly. "Mum said! Mum said I had to keep him with me at all times!" I felt the tears drip down my face. I squeezed the plush toy until I was scared the seams would pop.

"Sienna, please calm down." Oak told me. His arm came around my shoulder and I slowly let out the breath I was holding. "You want to go after your mother, correct?"

I could only manage a short nod.

"But you can't take Growlithe with you. You understand that, right?"

He was trying to be kind, rational. But it made me furious.

"Well what the hell am I supposed to do, then?!" I wrenched myself away from Oak. "I can't stay here; I can't go there! I'm useless! Maybe I should… maybe I should have just listened to my stupid father all those years ago and became a Pokemon trainer! Then maybe Mum would have taken me with her rather than abandoning me here with nothing and no-one to help me!"

The tears had started up again and I couldn't stop them.

"And she's out there with just… with just an Electrike and a Houndour and I'm so scared for her! My dad… my dad has too many strong Pokemon!" It was all spilling out now with no hope of stopping. "She won't be able to stand up to him! He's just too strong! And I can't stand being stuck here, pretending that she'll never be coming home! It's not right!" I took a deep breath, one sentence forcing its way up my throat like rising bile. "I wish I had become a trainer after all!"

My words echoed in the silence of the house. Growlithe whined and dropped to the floor.

"Sienna." Professor Oak's voice permeated my consciousness like a slap to my face. "I'd like you to come with me to my lab. Growlithe too."

.-.-.

Oak's lab had changed. It had been the subject of a documentary some years ago and I still remembered the palpable excitement that had swept through the town when they were filming. His lab had been shown as an exciting, cutting-edge place of research, with pristine equipment and many busy aides.

But now that I was standing within the lab, I could understand why so few new trainers had come out of Pallet recently.

"It has been difficult these past few years," As if he could read my mind, Oak huffed and puffed as he swept some books and papers from a desk in the lab. "So many people left Pallet for bigger cities. The lab lost funding. Black market breeding is on the rise so people would rather pay some guy to get a hold of Bulbasaur, Squirtle and Charmander. Of course that means inbreeding is on the up and people are finding—"

I had zoned out from what Oak was saying. His lab was so messy, so dusty, worlds away from the pinnacle of research it had been only a few years ago. The only things in the room that looked like they had been taken care of in any way, were a photograph in a frame of Oak and some brown-haired guy that I assumed was a relative, and the computer in the far corner. Growlithe snuffled along underneath chairs and tables, sneezing every now and again with a little puff of flames.

"So, in conclusion, Sienna… I don't think you'd be a bad Pokemon trainer."

"Wha-huh?" I gasped, suddenly snapping back into the conversation. "What?"

Professor Oak smiled at me patiently. "You, Sienna. A Pokemon trainer. Why, I remember when you came of age. You were the only eligible person not to put their name forward for a Kanto starter. But then I thought it must have been because of the great job your Dad did at providing Pokemon for others, I assume he must have given you one."

I grunted angrily. "He tried."

"But then everyone left for their journeys that summer and you stayed. Your Mother told me that you weren't interested."

"That's right." I said stiffly.

"But think about this." Oak said seriously. "You say you want to go after your Mother. Staying here is dangerous at best. Even if you were staying here, you would need more protection than just Growlithe."

"So you're suggesting that I…?"

"Become a Pokemon trainer, yes."

"Professor…" I stammered. "I'm… I'm the worst person possible to be a Pokemon trainer! People who train Pokemon are meant to be good people, people who can form… bonds of friendship with them." It sounded so cheap and cheesy saying it that it caught in my throat. "And I don't want a Pokemon for those reasons!"

"But you do want a Pokemon?"

"I…" I caught myself. "I… I didn't say that."

"Sienna, the reasons you're considering getting a Pokemon aren't the most… conventional, shall we say." He chuckled slightly. "But I do have confidence in you. Your mother is an excellent trainer. The way Growlithe protected you is testament to that. And you take after her in so many ways. I think you have the potential to be an excellent trainer too."

"So… you think if I have a Pokemon, I might be able to go after her? Maybe even find her?" My heart was beating faster. "Oh, but… wouldn't I need more than one? Two? Three? A whole team?" The prospect, momentarily thrilling, now seemed terrifying.

Oak laughed. "My dear girl, success is not always measured in how much you have of something. Just because someone may have twenty or thirty Pokemon, it doesn't make him a good trainer. All it means is he can use a Pokeball correctly. What really matters is the bonds between trainer and Pokemon."

"Yes, but I thought it was better to have lots of Pokemon?"

"Sometimes, yes. But you think about this. Which trainer do you think is better? One has lots of Pokemon of many different types, but because of the high number he cannot devote as much time to each as he would like. Therefore, his Pokemon are insufficiently trained and may be disobedient."

I nodded, suddenly captivated, like a child listening to a bedtime story.

"Now, consider the second trainer. She has maybe two or three Pokemon, so she naturally may fall victim to type disadvantages and she may lose a lot of battles at first. But then, it will be easier for her to spend more quality time with each Pokemon, work with them on their weaknesses and find ways to overcome them, therefore better strengthening the bonds between them. Now, which of the two would you rather be like?"

"The second one."

Professor Oak smiled. "Well, there you have it."

"I see… Thank you, Professor, that never really occurred to me. But… can people not be both? Have lots of Pokemon that they spend equal amounts of time with, working with them?"

"Of course. It does happen. But it takes an exceptional trainer."

"Oh… I see…"

"Don't look so downcast, Sienna." Professor Oak said. "Now, I'm gonna ask you again one last time. What do you want to do?"

The question hit me like a punch to the face. My hands balled into fists and I looked down to my lap.

What could I do? What would happen if Mum fixed everything that she needed to do in a few days What would happen if she came home and found the house trashed, the garden burned up and me gone? But on the inverse, if I stayed alone, months could pass before she turned up again. And if those people came back…? My head was a blur of thoughts and options and not one of them seemed to be better than another.

But what about Professor Oak's idea? Get a Pokemon, go to Hoenn, look for her? On the face of it, it was the stupidest idea of all of them. I had no idea what emotion had made me spit out "I wish I had just become a Pokemon trainer". But deep in my heart, I knew. I was desperate. If I had a Pokemon, Mum might have been able to take me with her. I might have been able to help her. I might have been useful to her rather than someone who should just hole up at home with someone else to protect her. My fists tightened, my nails biting into my hands until they almost drew blood.

I hadn't wanted to be a Pokemon trainer. Ever. I had no interest in Pokemon. I didn't know the slightest thing about them. I didn't know anything about type match ups, or what moves to teach them, or what they evolved into or what food they ate. I certainly didn't know how to survive out on my own for weeks at a time, I definitely didn't know how to follow a map or a compass, so how was I going to navigate myself to a whole other region? I had no gear, no Pokeballs and no decent amount of money to my name. And most importantly, I didn't have a single Pokemon.

This was a ridiculous notion. Wasn't it?

"Sienna?" Professor Oak prompted my gently. "What do you want to do?"

I murmured my answer into existence, testing out the way the words felt. They felt alien and wrong, but the moment I spoke them, I knew they were the right decision.

"I want to go after her."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note
> 
> Hi everyone!
> 
> Apologies for the lateness of this chapter! I had written it nearly a week ago and hadn't gotten around to editing it. Only reason I got to today was because I'm home from work sick.
> 
> What did we all think of the Pokemon direct? I am absolutely in love with Wooloo and Corviknight and I want both on my team for Sword and Shield!
> 
> Thank you to those who have read and reviewed so far!
> 
> As for your question, cyberbeasttitan, the rewrite is certainly superior in quality and length so if you're fine waiting between chapters then yes, reading the rewrite rather than original is a good idea!
> 
> Thanks everyone! Please continue to enjoy the rewrite!


	7. One Shocking Story

**Chapter Six  
One Shocking Story**

 

Professor Oak left me with a cup of warm sweet tea while he disappeared to the back of the lab. He was away for some time, the occasional bang and clatter sounding from behind the closed door. I sat there, Growlithe napping at my feet, long after the warmth faded from the cup.

When Oak finally came back, he was flushed and sweating, but grinning broadly. In his hands, I saw a flash of red. “I knew I had some spare lying around.”

He pushed the objects into my hands. The cool feel of metal hit me like an electric shock.

“Pokeballs?” I gasped.

“The very same. Now hang on, I’ve something else for you.”

Oak produced a slim, red, rectangular thing that I had only ever seen on Saturday morning cartoons. A Pokedex?

“This is an old model,” Oak said apologetically as I turned it over in my hands. “From a few years ago. It still works perfectly fine, though.”

“No, no, it’s okay…” I was in total disbelief. Holding Pokeballs and a Pokedex. Was this really happening? I kept staring at them, like if I blinked or stopping looking, they would totally disappear. And those Pokeballs. The tiny red capsules, both familiar and totally alien all at once.

“You can still use the Pokedex to identify Pokemon you come across on your travels. I did a system update so data for other regional areas should be available to you. New species of Pokemon are being discovered all the time, you know.”

“T-thank you…”

“And I presume you know how to catch a Pokemon?”

“With the Pokeballs?” I said dumbly.

Oak’s kind smile never wavered, so I knew making a fool of me was the last thing on his mind. “Of course, yes. There are five there. Most people nowadays don’t bother keeping a full team of six Pokemon. Even among dedicated trainers, smaller teams are becoming quite fashionable. But I leave that decision to you, of course.”

My eyes were threatening to spill over with gratitude. But there was still something niggling at the back of my mind.

“ _What use is all this without a Pokemon to help me?_ ”

I felt like I was being torn in two, like people were playing tug of war with my arms and legs. I still didn’t want a Pokemon. I still didn’t know why I was making this decision.

I could stop all this right now, go home, wait patiently for her to come back.

But that wasn’t an option anymore.

“Sienna. Would you come with me for a moment?”

I followed Oak numbly to the back of the lab. It took a lot of shoving and manoeuvring to fit the five balls and Pokedex inside my hoodie pocket, like I was playing a game of Tetris.

Oak led me into a tiny room that looked like a shrine to Pokeballs. The walls were adorned in shelves that stretched from the very top to all the way to the bottom. Everywhere I looked, Pokeballs of every size and colour gleamed down at me. I wondered how many balls were on each shelf. Hundreds, at least, positioned military style, like lines of soldiers.

I suddenly felt very nervous. If each of these Pokeballs held a Pokemon, then what _kind_ of Pokemon? I thought of Dad’s favourites… Machamp, Rhydon, Golem. Horrible, vicious ones that could tear me into shreds as soon as look at me. I had terrible visions of walking into a shelf, knocking them down and them escaping! I backed away, suddenly not sure I wanted to be here anymore.

My back bumped against a small table I hadn’t noticed before. I whipped around to see three Pokeballs atop it wobble precariously. One toppled and I dived to retrieve it, replacing it quickly before Professor Oak turned and caught me.

There were little tags beside the Pokeballs on the table. I examined them closely; one read “ _Bulbasaur_ ” over a grass symbol, another “ _Squirtle_ ” against a water backdrop, and the final “ _Charmander”_ branded over an image of a flame.

I pressed the release button on the Bulbasaur Pokeball. When it flipped open, it was disappointingly empty. I wondered how long it had been since Oak had a full crop of Kanto starters to give out to new trainers.

I felt a pang of jealousy. From what I had seen on the cartoons and news reports, Kanto starter Pokemon were rare and full of potential, evolving into wickedly powerful creatures that were the envy of any trainer, beginner or advanced. If I had one of those, Dad wouldn’t stand a chance.

“Sienna?” Professor Oak’s voice cut into my thoughts. “Can you join me?”

Professor Oak was holding a Pokeball in his hand. “You know as well as I do, Sienna, that I would love to offer you one of the indigenous Kanto starters. But as much as it pains to say it, I cannot. I can barely keep Pallet Town’s young people supplied with Pokemon anymore. So many going elsewhere for Pokemon… so few people coming back here to settle down… I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up!”

“Oh, Professor…” I murmured.

“It’s quite all right, Sienna. All good things must come to an end, eh?”

“I suppose.”

“The good thing about this job is all the unique Pokemon I come across and all the happy stories I hear.  But unfortunately, not every story is a happy one. And sometimes as a Professor, responsibility for that can fall on my shoulders.”

“Professor? Where are you going with this, exactly?”

“This Pokemon came into my care last year.” Professor Oak held out the Pokeball. “Dare I say it, she’s had a bit of a tough time of it all. Now she’s all I have left of my collection.”

I reached out for the Pokeball. It was cold and oddly weighted. It felt strange knowing there was a Pokemon sealed inside there. “What… what kind of Pokemon is… uh… she?”

“Why don’t you find out? I do warn you though, she’s a little… spirited?”

I didn’t like the sound of “spirited” either. Calling someone “spirited” was a cuddly euphemism for “feisty” or “strong willed” or, worst of all “stubborn”. I didn’t like the idea of having to deal with any Pokemon that was aggressive or disobedient, let alone my starter.

I held the Pokeball in my hands, unsure of what to do with it. For some reason, I couldn’t get past the idea that this was now _my_ Pokemon. Eventually, after another gentle prompt from the professor, I dropped the Pokeball to the ground.

The customary bright flash of light followed. It was surprisingly harsh close up and I had to shield my eyes with my hands. The light was gone as soon as it came, the Pokeball returned itself to my hands and I was left blinking in surprise as I looked at the Pokemon standing in front of me.

“Oh… hello?” I offered.

I didn’t know what made the Pokemon freak out. Perhaps “hello” was considered some sort of demeaning insult in Pokemon language? All I know is that there was a sudden, vicious spark and a crackle of static electricity and my air was standing on end! I scuttled back a few feet, terrified of being electrocuted.

The strange Pokemon fixed me with a fierce glare and its soft, woolly coat suddenly puffed up, bristling with static. An orange sphere at the end of its striped blue tail grew brighter and my entire consciousness was filled with the sound of electricity crackling and sparking.

The Pokemon stamped one of its short, stubby feet.

“Mareeeeep!”

“Whoa!” I cried, just narrowly avoiding a bolt of electrical energy.

The Professor calmly approached the Pokemon, placing his hand on its head and slipping it something that looked something like a small cake. The Pokemon, quelled in its anger for a moment, started chomping it down.

I stared dumbly at the Pokemon – _my_ Pokemon – for a moment. I had never seen this species before. It didn’t look like a Kanto native; I had at least a working knowledge of those. I took in every detail of its yellow wool, blue head and stumpy blue feet. Its short tail and ears were yellow and black striped, it had an orange sphere resting on its tail and a curly tuft of wool on its head. I supposed it could have been very cute – were it not for the problem of the electricity. And the rage.

“Sienna, meet Mareep.”

“Mareep?” I tried out the name for myself.

I then made the stupidest move possible. I knelt down to its level to get a closer look.

What I felt next could only be described as if every vein in my body had been set on fire. My body filled with static electricity and I swear I cleared six feet in one giant leap as I shot away from the Mareep.

“Wha…what’s it’s _problem?_ ” I backed up against the wall, looking at Professor Oak. “Why does it keep attacking me?”

Oak chuckled to himself “Mareep are normally very timid Pokemon. Most of them have mild dispositions as they generally live in big flocks in the wild. This one, however, is a little different.”

“I’ll say!” I said as the Mareep glared at me. It snorted at me, pawing the ground like I had seen Tauros do in the past. “Wh… what’s its problem?”

Professor Oak’s expression softened and a look of sadness passed over him. “Do you remember what I said about not every story being a happy one?”

“Sure?”

“Well, this little one had a more difficult time than normal. She had a bad trainer.”

I frowned. “A bad trainer? What do you mean by that?”

“This Mareep was owned by another trainer before she ended up being passed to me.” Oak explained. “She already had a difficult temperament, but it wasn’t anything a patient and willing trainer couldn’t deal with. But the original trainer didn’t have the patience to work with her. He said she was too much trouble to train. I don’t know exactly the details, but she came to me in a horrible condition.”

“What kind of condition?”

“Sienna…”

“No, I want to know.”

Oak hesitated but carried on. “I got her _after_ she had been to the Pokemon centre. Most of her wool had grown back by then, but it took a lot longer for her legs to properly heal.”

“Her…legs?”

Oak looked at me sympathetically. “Some trainers don’t treat their Pokemon well, Sienna. And this Mareep, well… she was one of the worst cases of Pokemon abuse I’d heard of in a long time.”

“How… how horrible…” my voice came in barely a whisper. I looked at the Mareep and felt any anxiety I had towards her slip away to be replaced with an all-consuming sadness. “So… just because she wasn’t exactly like the other trainer wanted… they just got rid of her?”

Oak nodded.

“But… but why?”

“It’s a question I find myself pondering all too often.” Oak looked sadly at the Mareep who had resumed crackling with electricity and eyeing me suspiciously. “Unfortunately, a lot of trainers get rid of Pokemon if they don’t turn out exactly the way they wanted them to. But not a lot of them resort to physical abuse.”

“But that’s wrong! I thought trainers were supposed to accept Pokemon for who they are! Accept their individuality!”

It was like I was a puppet and someone was pulling on my strings. I didn’t recognise this version of myself and the things I was saying. .

“Many trainers view Pokemon simply as tools.” Oak’s teeth were gritted. “Nothing but tools to use as their bidding.”

An image of my father flashed through my mind.  “Well… well, I’m not going to be like that.” I said firmly. “I… I know I’ll accept every Pokemon for who they are. I promise. And I’ll start with this Mareep her—YEOW!”

It seemed the Mareep didn’t buy my impassioned speech. Either that, or it grossly objected to my hand resting on its cotton-like wool. Volts of electricity invaded my body and shocked me right to my core.

“Oww…” I mumbled, collapsing back onto my backside. I swore I could even see smoke drifting from my body. Professor Oak, however, was chuckling.

“Well, well… you’re already beginning to sound and _look_ like a Pokemon trainer!” He laughed, as he pulled me up to my feet.

“What? A bit scruffy around the edges?” I managed a grin, then winced from the pain still tingling through my body. I eyed the Pokemon carefully, daring to take a few steps forward.

“Maaaa!” The Pokemon bleated in warning.

I backed off immediately, looking up at Oak for an answer. “What am I going to do if I can’t even get near her?”

“You need to gain her trust.” Oak handed me some berries. “Here, try giving her some of these.”

I blinked in surprise, wondering where on earth he had managed to produce them from. “Uhh… okay…”

Without thinking, I thrust the berries into the Mareep’s face. My brain caught up with me a split second too late. The Mareep screeched and I earned another shock for my troubles. I groaned and waited for the pain to fade.

This was hopeless. I felt tears threaten at the corners of my eyes and I blinked them away furiously. How was I going to go after Mum with a Pokemon that couldn’t even stand the sight of me?

“Sienna, just hold your hand out, don’t stick it in her face.” Oak spoke with an assuring, calm, clear voice that both resonated with me and almost threw me off guard. I couldn’t remember the last time a man had spoken to me in such a kind way. “Let her come to you, that’s it. You’re doing really well.”

I moved my hand back, raised my palm and extended my fingers to allow the Mareep to see the berries properly. At first, she turned her head and ignored me but after a few moments, she caught the scent. She watched me closely as if trying to figure out if I would get too close to her again. After another few moments, she tottered up to me on her little legs. I hardly dared breathe. She snatched the berries from my hand, nearly taking half my fingers with her, then darted off to the other end of the room and ate them in silence.

“Wow…” I got to my feet, wiping the sticky berry juice on my shirt. “That was a little intense…”

Professor Oak smiled softly. “Sienna, I must tell you, so you know what you’re getting yourself into. This Mareep will find it harder than most Pokemon to accept and trust her trainer. You’ll need a lot of patience and you’ll have to spend a lot of time with her. Pokemon mistreated by their first trainer almost always can become rehabilitated if the second trainer is devoted enough. That’s why placing an abused Pokemon with the right person is so important. However, Pokemon very rarely recover if they’re mistreated by two trainers.”

I felt a pang of guilt, followed by a stab of insecurity. “But… what if I can’t help this Pokemon?”

“I know you can,” Oak said without hesitation. “This Pokemon is a lonely little soul. And, perhaps you’re a bit lonely yourself, am I correct?”

I stuttered. “W-well…” I couldn’t find the words to dissuade him. It was true. There weren’t any kids my age around Pallet Town anymore, and any friends I did have had long since left.

Oak chuckled and I was left wondering if he had been serious or just joking.

To cover my embarrassment, I looked back at the Mareep. She was strutting around, nose pointed to the air, like she owned the place. Yet somehow, I got the impression she was still agitated, like she was working herself into a temper. A voice at the back of my head kicked in, telling me to calm her down, but I couldn’t make my body obey it. I didn’t know much about Pokemon trainers, but I was pretty sure they weren’t supposed to be scared of their own Pokemon.

“Regardless,” Oak was speaking again. “I think you and Mareep are a good match. And most importantly, I think you’ll be good for each other.”

Good for getting electrocuted, maybe.

“Why don’t you take this time to introduce yourself to her?” Oak said. “You’re probably in a bit of a hurry, aren’t you?”

In all the commotion, I had completely forgotten my reasons for wanting a Pokemon in the first place. But introducing myself? To a mad ball of sparks like that Mareep? Easier said than done.

Oak noticed my hesitation. “Just go up and tell her your name. Let her know that you’re going to be her new trainer.”

“But what if she zaps me again?”

“She’ll only do that if you give her reason to.”

I turned towards the Mareep and she instantly stopped in her tracks. I froze, my whole body tensing with the anticipation of a shock.

“Keep your movements slow and deliberate.”

Under Oak’s guidance, I knelt down to her again. “Hello Mareep,” I tried to keep my voice soft and calm, like I was talking to a baby. My hands were trembling. Weren’t Pokemon sensitive to human emotions? “I’m Sienna,” I said. “I’m going to be your new trainer.”

It took a moment for her to react. At first, I dared to hope this was a sign of acceptance. I barely dared to breathe or blink the entire time. Then, just as I thought I was safe and that the threat was over, the Mareep let out a crazed shriek, leant forward and let out a shock of electric energy.

I let out a scream, toppled backwards, smacked my head on the nearby table and ended up sprawled on the ground like a fish out of water.

“You know what, professor?” I groaned, watching the Mareep stalk across to the other end of the room. “I think this is going to be the start of a beautiful friendship…”

And I laughed, because what else could I do?


	8. Chapter 8

 

**Chapter Seven  
Meloi   
  
**

It was Oak’s voice that cleaved me from my thoughts and dragged me back into my new reality. “So. Are you going to nickname her?”

I detached my gaze from the Mareep. “Nickname?”

“A lot of trainers nickname their Pokemon. They think it adds a touch of personality and creates intimacy. You can call her “Mareep” if you like, but there are hundreds of them after all.”

I turned the thought over in my head like I was examining an antique. Nicknaming Pokemon did seem more fun than just calling them after their species name. But then again, nicknames implied closeness, didn’t they? Did I deserve that kind of closeness with the Mareep? Especially considering the reasons I wanted a Pokemon. It certainly wasn’t to create a bond with them. It was to go after my Mum and Dad.

Did someone like that really deserve that kind of closeness?

The Mareep was doing her best to avoid my eye. I blew out, unsticking my hair from my moist forehead. It would be hard enough to get the Mareep to listen to me without bringing a nickname into it, wouldn’t it?

Then again, I had never backed down from a challenge before now.

I mentally ran through a list of possible names. “What about “Fluffy”?”

“Ma!” A shock of electricity crackled into the air, this one missing me by only a few inches.

I managed a grin. What else could you do in this kind of situation? “Well, I guess that’s the answer to that one,”

“It wouldn’t likely fit, anyway.” Oak said. “Once Mareep evolves, she won’t have any fluff by the end of it.”

“Wait, Mareep evolves?”

“Of course she does. Ah, wait, I forgot that this Pokemon isn’t native to Kanto. But yes, she does evolve. Twice, actually.”

A gem of a thought popped up in the back of my head. Two evolutions meant she was exactly like the starters. And that meant a lot of potential for getting stronger with every evolution. A flash of excitement burst, flooded my veins, but then withered away. I was still a long way off from anything as complicated as evolution.

Refocusing myself, I kept thinking. If Mareep didn’t have much wool or fluff when she evolved, that immediately ruled out names like Cotton or Woolly. Standard nicknames for Electric types were no good either. Bolt? Sparky? There were probably hundreds of those too. I wanted something unique. Something that stood out. Something that had my stamp on it.

“Meloi.”

“I beg your pardon, Sienna?”

I turned to the Mareep. “Yeah. Meloi. From this day on, you are to be known as Meloi.”

The Mareep looked back, clueless. At the very least, she didn’t shock me. An optimistic sign. A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. It suited her.

“So, you’re happy with that? Meloi?”

“Absolutely.”

“Excellent. Well, we’ll start the process of assigning her to your trainer profile, alright? First things first, Sienna, could you use that Pokedex on her to start the registration?”

I pulled the Pokedex obediently from my pocket. It was a pain to open, an invisible button near the hinge that had to be pressed. I pointed the scanner at the Mareep, somehow feeling foolish.

The Pokedex spoke in a mechanical, yet somehow chirpy, voice. “ _Mareep, the Wool Pokemon. If static electricity builds in its body, its fleece doubles in volume. Touching it will shock you._ ”

A nervous laugh escaped me. “That’s good to know,”

The screen changed, showing a list of numbers that made little to no sense to me. I knew Pokemon were measured in “levels”, in order to help distinguish trainer classes, and prevent young trainers being totally decimated by older, more experienced ones, but that was about as far as my understanding went.

_Mareep. Female. Level 12._

“Level twelve?” I repeated. “But I thought rookies always started out with level fives? She’s nearly three times stronger than that!”

“That’s correct. You have a lot of hard work ahead of you. Pokemon with higher levels sometimes have issues listening to inexperienced trainers.”

That’s just perfect. There was an arrow on the screen, indicating another page on the dex, and I pressed it. “Hey, what’s all this? “Tackle, Growl, Thunder Wave, Thunder Shock.” Professor?”

“Those are the attacks that Meloi already knows.” Oak explained. “You can click those, find out more information about each one.”

My head already felt like it had been stuffed full of cotton wool and given a good rattle for good measure. Any more information probably wouldn’t stick. I murmured something about “doing it later”, closed the Pokedex and stuck it back in my pocket.

I allowed myself a glance to the window. The afternoon sky split into amber. We were already staring down the evening.

“Professor…” I ventured. “I need to get going.”

“Hm?” he looked at me as if I’d just roused him from sleep. “Oh, yes. Yes of course. You have much to do, don’t you?”

“I do.” The weight of my words settled on my shoulders. “But thank you for everything you’ve done.”

“Any time, my dear. I’m just glad I found the right person to take your Meloi on. I was starting to lose hope anyone would take her.”

I nodded. “I’ll need to go home and pack. I’ll need to leave sooner rather than later. It’s a long way to Hoenn, isn’t it?” I laughed, although it wasn’t funny.

“Tell you what,” Oak said. “I’ll come around in a few hours. While you’re packing, I can register Meloi properly to your trainer ID. I’ve also got some maps for Kanto and Hoenn. They might be a little out of date, but they’ll do the job.”

“Oh, that’d be brilliant, thank you.”

I neglected to tell him I could barely even open a map the correct way, let alone have any hope to decode one.

“I hope you find your mum, Sienna.”

“Yeah,” I said, glancing at Meloi. “I hope I do too.”

-.-.-

I returned Meloi to her Pokeball before I went home. Packing was a difficult enough job without an irate ball of electricity following you around. And I didn’t trust her to get along with Mum’s Growlithe.

She resisted the ball at first. I got shocked a few times in the process, but I found it hard to be angry at her. Who knows how long she had spent alone in that ball, just to go right back in after only an hour or so of freedom?

I moved around the house like a zombie in a daze. When was the last time I had packed an overnight bag? It must have been years ago, at least for a proper holiday. The most Mum and I had ever managed was a day trip, maybe to Viridian, once even to Cerulean. When Dad was still around, he travelled frequently. He even dragged Mum and me away with him sometimes. There was a photo of me, on top of the bookcase, standing in front of a hotel in Canalave City, sucking furiously on an ice lolly, my burnt skin hidden under an enormous white sun hat. I couldn’t have been any more than four years old.

I didn’t know what to take. I didn’t have many clothes, at least not many suitable for long periods of travel. Growlithe lay at my feet as I emptied the contents of my wardrobe and chest of drawers all over the floor. Everything I owned was either old and ratty or totally unsuitable. I had an old school backpack, not blessed with a large amount of space, but at least lightweight and sturdy. In went some spare jeans, shorts, underwear, socks, a couple of jumpers and an old sleeping bag pulled out of a tattered box in the loft. I only remembered pyjamas when I was straining to get the bag shut, had to pull everything out and start again. My attempts at folding resulted in a bulky mess and I almost gave up, feeling tears prick at the corner of my eyes. Mum was a wizard at packing. She could have done this in two seconds.

I was lugging the bag downstairs when there was a rattling knock at the front door. Professor Oak had been true to his word, bringing over two huge maps, one for Hoenn and one for Kanto. Growlithe got to him first, covering him in excited licks, his big paws scrabbling at Oak’s knees. He wouldn’t listen to my commands, and no amount of valiant heaving would get him off.

Just when I thought I would never get him calm, Oak let out a short sharp whistle and the puppy Pokemon immediately dropped his chin to the floor and went flat, only his tail still waggling. Oak slipped him something that looked like a couple of bright yellow berries and he chomped through them appreciatively. And there he remained, calm and placid, better behaved in an instant with Oak than the years he had spent with me.

I pushed the rising hurt to the back of my brain and buried it there. “Wow, you’re a serious miracle worker. He’s not usually that well behaved.”

“Comes with practice, my dear girl,” Oak smiled, pressing the two maps into my hands. “There you are. Two maps.” I caught his eyes drifting to the large bag at my feet. “Where’s Meloi?”

“In her Pokeball. I don’t want her scrapping with Growlithe.” I fished the ball from the pocket of my jeans and showed it to him. I wished I had one of those belts with the attachments that allowed you to clip the balls straight to your waist. It would have been such a timesaver.

Oak nodded. “So, all prepared?”

“Mostly.”

“What do you plan on doing with Growlithe when you leave, Sienna?”

I stopped, the reality of the situation piercing me like an arrow. Professor Oak had already pointed out that I couldn’t take Growlithe with me. Yet Mum had been so insistent that I should always keep him with me. But what good would bringing Growlithe do if I was turned away at the first Pokemon Centre, branded a thief and a criminal, and sent straight home? Or worse.

I looked up at Professor Oak’s lined face. He looked older than ever. How many new trainers had he seen, supervised, helped on their way? It used to be that many people stored their Pokemon with him. Nowadays, there were so many options for Pokemon not kept in a trainer’s main party, from completing jobs all over the world to going on luxury holidays. I probably couldn’t do anything like that with Growlithe. At the end of the day, he wasn’t registered to me.

“Professor?” I asked. “Would it be possible for you to keep him?”

Oak looked a little surprised, and I panicked. “Well, I know you’re allowed to keep Pokemon for storage, right? And I’m sure you’d like the company.”

A smile raised his heavy face. “Thank you, Sienna. I think that’s a fine idea.”

“Thank you so much. At least I know he’ll be in good hands and not running around the house alone or stuck in his Pokeball. That’s no life for a Pokemon.”

“It certainly is not. Now, Sienna, may I have your trainer’s license?”

“My trainer’s license?”

“I presume you have one? I know your father mentioned getting one for you. You won’t be able to go out as a fully-fledged trainer without one.”

I had to cast my mind back a long time. I remembered getting it, the slippery feeling of horror as I peeled it from the card that sat inconspicuously next to my breakfast on the morning of my tenth birthday. What had I done with it after that? Dread dripped through me like an ice cube down my spine. Had I destroyed it? No, Dad wouldn’t have let that happen. Had Mum taken it?

I darted up the stairs, calling back to the professor to give me a few minutes. I ignored my own room, heading to Mum’s instead. Stuck behind a large, free-standing mirror was a large black jewellery box, glossy and hand-painted with delicate white flowers, and secured with a gold clasp. Dad had bought it for her years ago. She’d confided in me once that she hated it. She wasn’t much for jewellery anyway, but the twee, feminine design was never something she would choose for herself. Yet she’d displayed it to keep Dad happy, along with the jewellery he liked her to wear. When he left, she sold all the jewellery and then relegated the box to hold papers and things she probably should have thrown out.

I pulled the box out, opened the lid, and sifted through wads of papers. There it was, sitting at the bottom, upside down and covered in a fine layer of dust and grime. The picture was old; a slightly tight-lipped affair, my hair pulled back into a tight ponytail and making my rounded face look something like a moon. I must have only been nine or so. I couldn’t find an expiration date on the card, which was lucky, but I’d need to update the picture. Somehow.

When I presented the license to Professor Oak, he didn’t even give the picture a second look. “I’ll need to take this back to the lab, okay, Sienna? Just to change over Meloi’s details to your ID. Come back and see me when you’re ready to be heading out.”

With Oak gone, I took a nervous glance at the clock. It was inching steadily closer to six o’clock. My stomach burned with hunger. Did I really have to leave tonight? Leaving so late brought a whole host of issues. Travelling at night, in the dark was dangerous.

But so was spending another night in this house. And could I really afford to waste time?

I still had things to do. There was no point in moping around and worrying. Backpack filled but with plenty of other things I needed, I took a shoulder bag from the back of Mum’s bedroom door and filled it up with what I could salvage from the kitchen. I lamented having to leave the bulk of the fridge food but compensated by making and cutting up sandwiches into a cool bag. I’d need plenty of supplies along the way.

My heart started to beat faster in my chest as I moved around the house. Was this really happening? With everything I did, everything I found, everything I packed, I was getting closer and closer to leaving. I wanted to stay. I wanted to go. But it wasn’t until I went upstairs to take the money from the space under the floorboards that it hit me and I dropped to my hands and knees on the floor and let my body be wracked with the sobs I had fought to hold back all day.

 

 

 


	9. First Steps

**Chapter Eight  
First Steps  
  
**

It was time to go.

My bags were fully packed. I hauled them to my shoulders, feeling the muscles strain under the impressive weight. But it was nothing compared to the weight of the journey I was facing.

I took one last look around the house, squeezing the plush Growlithe in my hoody pocket for comfort. I couldn’t stand to leave it. Call me sentimental or stupid or whatever, but it felt wrong to leave it behind.  It was one of the only ties to Mum I had. It had to stay with me.

Locking the front door, I faced the setting sun with a flutter in my heart. How long would it be before I came back here? I felt so totally unprepared for what I was about to do. I didn’t know a thing about Pokemon training. I barely understood type matchups, I had no useful items like Pokeballs that worked better under certain conditions or healing things like Potions and Antidotes. All I had was one Pokemon, some basic supplies and an over-inflated sense of hope.

Professor Oak opened his front door before I even reached his front gate. Growlithe came bounding down the steps, nearly knocking me over in the process, his huge paws scrabbling at me. Did he even understand that this was goodbye? The thought made a lump form in my throat, hard and sour, and impossible to swallow.

“Here we are, Sienna.” Professor Oak handed me my license. “Meloi is fully registered and I updated your license. Anything you catch now will automatically go to your name, and any surplus Pokemon, that is anything over the six Pokemon carrying limit, will come straight to me.”

I didn’t know what to say. Professor Oak had been so helpful, so kind-hearted, furnishing me with tools and Pokemon, and asked nothing in return. Words of praise wrapped themselves around each other and then fell apart again. There was nothing I could say that would be enough.

“You better get going,” Oak touched my shoulder.

“Thank you, Professor.”

* * *

I started off walking like I was in a trance. I could barely focus on getting my feet to take the next step. Within moments, my back and shoulders ached under the weight of the bag and I was constantly stopping to stop and readjust myself.  The sky was turning sombre, darkness tinting the horizon, and a cool wind chilled my skin and wicked the heat from my body. I probably wouldn’t be able to get far tonight.

I passed through Pallet Town, walking past the house of my neighbours and friends, my heart beating against my ribcage. What would I do if someone recognised me, asked me where I was going? I didn’t have a story straight in my head that made sense.

But Pallet Town was quiet. Hardly anyone was out and about. A couple of young children booted a football back and forth in the park, but that was the only movement. I kept my head down and kept going.

As I approached the Pallet Town limits, the panic started to wash in, like the tide returning to shore. I was walking slow – much slower than I’d anticipated. Roughly calculating, I imagined it would take me over three hours just to reach Viridian. At least, if I took the safer route, the one that stayed away from Pokemon habitats. Most towns and cities had two or more routes connecting them, one for those travelling by car or public transport, and one for Pokemon trainers. There was no public transport out of Pallet at this time of night. I supposed I could try to hitch a lift, but that certainly wasn’t a guarantee. And it was a long hard route, navigating twisting roads, with few places to rest.

My mind wandered towards the other route. Of course, I’d never gone that way myself. It had been drummed into us ever since we were kids that it was too dangerous to go that way without Pokemon. Yet curiosity swirled in me and became impossible to ignore. I checked my map. The other route certainly looked like it was a good bit shorter than travelling by the main road. But was it safe?

I’d never encountered wild Pokemon without my Mum being there. Wild Pokemon appearing was an occupational hazard, no matter where you were or what you were doing, I knew that much. You couldn’t stop Pidgey from nesting in the garden or Zubat coming out at night or Rattata thieving from the bins. Whenever I’d been with Mum, anything stupid enough to square up to us didn’t stick around when they saw her Growlithe, Electrike and Houndour. But she was a veteran trainer. I was a novice, travelling alone, with a Pokemon that barely knew me and probably wouldn’t listen to me.

But I was already cold and tired. Travelling three hours at the side of the road would take too long. I made the decision. The other route it was.

Route One took me on a gentle slope uphill, through a thick border of trees that scattered their litter at my feet. The sun was sinking beyond the tips of the pines, watery light casting shadowy beams. Twenty hard sweaty minutes passed, and the shadows grew larger. The back of my legs burned as I pushed forward, the hill getting steeper and steeper with every step.

I stopped to rest on a fallen tree trunk, feeling the damp cold seep through my clothes. It was a relief to shrug off the massive bag and feel my shoulders relax.

I had been travelling all this time but hadn’t seen any Pokemon yet. Strangely enough, I wasn’t sure if I was pleased or disappointed. I wasn’t naïve enough to think that one Pokemon was ever going to be enough – especially not a disobedient one. And especially not against someone like my Dad. I had to catch other Pokemon, preferably ones that weren’t the same type as Meloi. I had to try to vary them out, pick ones that were strong against the types she was weak against.

I pulled up the Pokedex entry for the species of Mareep. Meloi was an Electric type, which meant she was strong against Water and Flying Pokemon, and weak against Ground. And each one of those types had different strengths and weaknesses, and in some cases, types they were totally unaffected by. I clicked through each type on the Pokedex, swamped with statistics, facts and figures, trying to sort the worthless information from the good.

After ten minutes, I clicked the Pokedex shut and put it away, my mind swimming. It was like trying to read something in another language, or a textbook in a subject you knew nothing about. Only one nugget of information stowed itself in the back of my brain, digging itself under my skin like a burrowing insect. Meloi was weak to Ground types, and that was one of Dad’s favourites. I was disadvantaged right from the start.

I leant my head back and let out a long breath. It misted away into nothingness. Around me, the forest was alive with sounds, cracking and creaking like an old shack in a gust of wind. Somewhere in the distance, water trickled, and leaves rustled. It was almost peaceful. Like I was the only person in the world.

Then something was scrabbling, scratching, so close that it could have been right next to me.

I dropped my gaze to the ground. It was right next to me! A small, purple creature was clawing at my bag where I kept all the food. A Rattata! I watched, almost in slow motion, as it tore open a tiny hole at the bottom of the bag.

I leapt up like Meloi had just shocked me. I swore, forgetting all common sense, grabbed the bag and pulled. An awful _riiiiiiiiip_ went through the silence of the forest and food tumbled to the ground; bags of sandwiches, fruit and one errant packet of crisps. The Rattata immediately detached itself from the fabric of the bag, landed squarely on its paws and started tearing into one of the bags of sandwiches.

“Stop that! No!” I cried out, grabbing at the food that had spilled.  

A screech ran through the clearing and the hair on the back of my neck stood up. I cast my gaze around, a movement catching the edge of my peripheral vision. Suddenly, more Pokemon appeared! At least a dozen more Rattata emerged from the undergrowth and bushes, their yellow eyes glowing in the expanding darkness. They were too quick, streaking forward, their tiny paws ripping into the food bags in moments. I was surrounded.

It was only then that I remembered Meloi.

I dug my hand deep into my hoody pocket, grabbed her ball and threw it as hard as I could. As she burst out with a fierce display of electricity, my heart soared. I was safe! Everything was going to be okay.

“Meloi!” My voice sounded pitchy in the echo of the forest. I thought back to every time I had seen trainers battle, every time I had seen my mother command Growlithe. “Use Thundershock on those Rattata!”

Meloi fixed me with a cool hard stare and did nothing.

“Meloi?” I repeated, feeling my words drain of their power. “Can you—?”

“Ma!” she screeched, stamping her stubby feet. That was a blatant display of disobedience if ever I saw one.

The Rattata had circled around me, still tearing into the food. Then, an awful cry went up in the distance.

“Rati­ _cate_!”

There it was. Right at the edge of my vision. Something large, brown and shaggy, with huge bared teeth. The Rattata around us immediately stopped and fell silent. Whatever that thing was, it was obviously the leader.

I didn’t wait to find out anything more. I grabbed my backpack, what was left of my bag of food and recalled Meloi. Then I was running, my feet thudding into the ground, adrenaline pumping through me with every erratic heartbeat.

What the hell had I gotten myself into?

 

 

 


End file.
